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THE 

CONFESSIONS 


■or 

J.  vLACKINGTON, 

LATE  BOOKSELLER, 

AT  THE  TEMPLE  OF  THE  MUSES, 

in  4 

Series  of  Letters  to  a  Friend, 


But  then  grew  Reason  dark,  that  she  no  more 
Could  the  fair  forms  of  Good  and  Truth  discern  ; 

Bats  they  became,  who  Eagles  were  before, 
And  this  they  got  by  their  desire  to  learn. 

SIR  J.  DAVIS. 

fi  The  soul's  dark  cottage  batter'dand  decay'd 

Lets  in  new  light  through  chinks  which  time  has  made.8* 


jYEW-YORK: 

ITBLJSHED  BY  JOHN  WILSON  AND  DANIEL    HITT 
FOR  THE  METHODIST  CONNECTION. 

J,  C,  TOTTEN,  PRINT. 

1808.     i 


ADVERTISEMENT. 


THE  Author  of  this  Confession  is  a  man 
of  a  very  prominent  character.  Having  at- 
tained considerable  celebrity,  as  well  by  his 
strange  rise  from  one  of  the  lowest  stations  in 
life,  to  the  possession  of  probably  the  greatest 
book-store  in  the  known  world  ;  as  by  the  ma- 
ny editions  of  his  life,  written  principally  to 
throw  a  general  obloquy  on  Christianity,  and 
to  shew  his  particular  aversion  from  the  Meth- 
odists, 

He  followed  the  occupation  of  a  shoemaker, 
according  to  his  confession;  and  by  hearing  the 
Methodist  preachers,  was  convinced  of  his  sin- 
fulness, and  made  a  good  progress  in  experi- 
mental and  practical  piety.  In  consequence  of 
his  sobriety  and  diligence,  accompanied  with 
the  generous  assistance  of  his  Methodist  breth- 
ren, it  appears  he  emerged  from  his  debased 
situation,  and  by  a  swift  gradation,  rose  to  op- 
ulence. He  now  fell  from  his  steadfastness  in 
religion,  and  became,  by  degrees,  an  open  deist 
and  a  vehement  opposer  of  his  former  associ- 
ates and  patrons.  How  he  was  again  gracious- 
ly visited  and  reclaimed,  these  letters  will  shew ; 
however,  we  cannot  forbear  remarking  the  pro- 
vidence that  should  make  Jvlr.  Wesley,  when 
dead,  the  instrument  of  his  re-convefsion.  He 


IV. 


has  now  resigned  his  business,  and  lives  in  eie 
gant  and  useful  retirement,  enjoying  once  more 
the  privileges  of  that  church  from  which  he  fell, 
and  has  lately  (in  1804)  published  the  letters 
from  which  these  are  taken,  desirous  thereby 
to  efface  the  effects  of  his  former  erroneous  pub- 
lications. It  has,  for  the  same  purpose,  been 
thought  expedient  to  re-publish  them  here  in 
the  present  form,  altering  nothing  in  what  is. 
retained,  but  omitting  what  was  deemed  not 
closely  connected  with  the  subject,  and  chiefly 
his  large  quotations  from  the  poets.  The  Lord 
himself  give  it  his  blessing,  and  to  him  be  all 
the  glory. 


PREFACE, 


SEVERAL  of  my  friends  have  thought  that, 
if  the  following  letters  were  made  public,  they 
might  prove  useful  as  a  warning  to  others  not 
to  fall  into  those  errors  which  had  nearly  prov- 
ed fatal  to  me  ;  and  also,  as  an  alarm  to  some 
of  those  who  are  already  fallen  into  that  dread- 
ful state  of  infidelity;  from  which,  by  the  great 
mercy  of  God,  1  am  happily  escaped. 

They  were  also  of  opinion,  that  as  I  had  pub- 
licly ridiculed  a  very  large  and  respectable  body 
of  Christians,  and  thus,  in  fact,  made  a  thrust 
at  the  very  vitals  of  Christianity  itself,  by 
this  means  giving  occasion  to  speculative  infi- 
dels and  practical  unbelievers  to  triumph  and 
blaspheme ;  diat,  therefore,  my  recantation 
ought  to  be  made  as  public  as  possible,  and  that 
by  so  doing  I  should  give  great  pleasure  to 
many  real  Christians,  who,  with  the  angels  in 
heaven,  will  rejoice  over  a  repenting  sinner. 

To  the  preceding  reasons,  the  Author  is 
obliged  to  add,  that  without  publishing  some 
thing  of  the  kind,  he  thinks  he  should  not  have 
performed  his  duty  to  God  or  man  r  nor  have 
had  any  .just  ground  to  expect  pardon  from 
either— such  is  his  sense  and  aohorrence  of  the 
pernicious  and  infidel  tendency  of  those  parts 
A3 


of  his  memoirs,  in  which,  through  the  side  oi 
Methodism,  he  attacks  the  whole  of  evangeli- 
cal piety. 

In  order  that  my  readers  might  be  able  to 
form  clear  ideas  of  the  state  of  my  mind  thro7 
the  whole  progress  of  my  present  happy  change, 
I  thought  it  best  to  insert  two  letters  which  I 
wrote  while  I  wras  an  infidel ;  and  others  writ- 
ten during  my  gradual  discovery  of  the  truths 
which  are  revealed  in  the  scriptures.  And  I 
request  my  readers  to  take  notice,  that  the  -first 
22  letters  were  all  written  before  I  was  convin- 
ced of  the  truth  of  those  doctrines  which  are 
taught  by  the  Methodists,  and  also  by  our  Re- 
formers, as  appears  by  the  Liturgy,  Articlesv 
and  Homilies  of  the  Church  of  England. 

I  have  called  my  old  acquaintances  by  ficti- 
tious names,  because  I  would  not  publicly  ex- 
pose either  those  that  are  dead,  or  such  as  are 
still  living  ;  and  I  presume  no  one  has  any  rea- 
son to  complain  ;  for  should  wy  of  them  be 
known  by  my  sketches,  it  Gan  only  be  by  such 
as  wrere  acquainted  with  the  originals. 

In  one  or  two  instances  I  have,  for  panic  - 
ular  reasons,  made  use  of  a  fictitious  vehicle  to 
introduce  real  facts,  reasonings,  reflections,  &c- 

It  may  be  necessary  to  inform  my  reader^ 
*hg|I  aiu  qot  (as  some  suppose)  again  become 


xn 

ft  partner   in  the  bookselling  trade.     It  is  now 
five  years  since  I  made  over  the  whole  of  th/ 
business  to  Messrs*  George  Lackington,  Al^ 
and  Co.  since  which  time  I  have  had  no  sh  ^ 
or  interest  in  it ;  and  I  am  very  sorry  that  u.^f 
last   summer  published  a  new  edition  of  the 
Memoirs  of  my  Life  ;  but  I  believe  they  had 
no  intention  to  disoblige  the  Methodists,  but 
merely  published  it  as  a  matter  of  course,  to 
promote  their  trade.     And  although  I  at  that 
time  was  not  pleased  with  its  being  republish- 
ed, yet  I  did  not  see  the  evil  tendency  which 
that  work  certainly  has,  in  so  strong  a  Irght  as  I 
have  since. 

I  am,  Readers, 
Your  very  sincere  well-wisher, 

J.  LACKINGTON. 
Ake'ston,  Dec.  10///,  1803. 


£ 


CONFESSIONS 

OF 

J.   LACKINGTON. 


LETTER  I. 


>■■       ■■        "  Trembling  I  retreat : 

My  prostrate  soul  again  adores  her  God  ?' 


SIR, 

IN  my  Memoirs  t  told  you  that  I  married 
Miss  Dorcas  Turton.  This  girl  had  for  some 
years  divided  her  spare  hours  between  devotion 
and  novel  reading;  on  Sundays  she  would  attend 
the  sermons  of  two  or  three  of  those  who  are  call- 
ed Calvinist-Methodist  preachers,  the  intervals 
were  often  filled  up  by  reading  of  novels:  and 
after  her  return  from  the  Tabernacle  in  the  even- 
ing the  novel  was  resumed,  and  perhaps  not  quit- 
ted until  she  had  seen  the  hero  and  heroine  hap- 
pily married,  which  often  kept  her  out  of  bed  un- 
til morning.  On  other  evenings  also  she  would 
often  hear  a  sermon  at  the  Tabernacle,  and  de- 
vote the  remainder  of  the  night  to  reading 
"  Tale's  of  Love  arid  Maids  forstken." 


10 

I  ha/1  no  sooner  married  this  young  woman  than 
Mr.  Wesley's  people  began  to  prophesy  that  I 
should  soon  lose  all  my  religion.  This  prophecy, 
I  must  confess,  was  too  soon  fulfilled.  And  al- 
though she  was  not  the  sole  cause  of  it,  yet  as  I 
often  was  prevailed  upon  to  hear  her  read  those 
gay,  frothy  narratives,  I,  by  degrees,  began  to 
lose  my  relish  for  more  important  subjects  ;  and 
it  was  not  long  before  novels,  romances,  and  po- 
ets occupied  a  considerable  part  of  our  time,  so 
that  I  even  neglected  my  shop ;  for  being  so 
much  delighted  with  those  fairy  regions,  I  could 
scarce  bear  the  idea  of  business :  I  also  sometimes 
neglected  the  preaching  at  the  Foundery,  at  other 
times  hurried  home,  impatient  until  I  had  again 
got  into  the  realms  of  fiction.  Some  months  pas- 
sed away  in  this  manner.  At  last  I  was  roused 
from  those  dreams,  and  again  I  paid  attention  to 
my  trade. 

I  observed- in  my  Memoirs,  that  Mr.  Denis  visit- 
ed me  during  my  long  illness.  When  I  was  again 
constantly  to  be  found  in  my  shop,  he  often 
called,  and  having  little  to  do,  and  being  fond  of 
disputation,  he  would  seat  himself  on  the  coun- 
ter, and,  as  occasion  offered,  attack  me,  or  any 
of  my  customers,  on  our  religious  opinions. '  He 
was  acquainted  with  the  various  controversies 
which  have  divided  the  christian  world ,  and  ap- 
peared to  take  delight  in  pulling  systems  to  pie- 
ces, without  establishing  any  thing.  He  owned 
that  he  was  greatly  attached  to  alchymical  and 
mystical  authors  ;  but  he  would  confess  that,  al- 
though he  believed  some  of  their  writings  were 
dictated  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  yet  that  he  did  rto: 


II 

pretend  to  understand  them.  He  allowed  that  the 
authors  of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments,  some- 
times wrote  as  the  spirit  dictated,  but  contended 
that  they  had  written  many  things,  without  any 
such  assistance  ;  that,  like  other  pious  authors, 
they  at  times  only  wrote  their  own  opinions  ;  so 
that  Mr.  Denis  only  believed  so  much  of  the  Bi- 
ble as  he  approved  of.  The  divinity  of  Christ,  the 
doctrine  of  the  atonement,  &c.  he  did  not  believe. 
From  Jane  Leed,  Madam  Bourignon,  Madam 
Guion,  he  had  filled  his  head  with  associating  and 
concentering  with  the  divinity,  which  was  the  way  to 
be  all  light,  all  eye,  all  spirit,  all  joy,  all  rest,  all 
glad?iess,  all  love  ;  pure  love,  rest  in  quietness,  ab- 
sorbed in  s?lent  %^\x\\\x2\  pleasure,  and  inexpressible 
sweetness,  &c.  Mr.  D  did  not  attend  any  place 
of  worship,  except  the  Horse  and  Groom  public 
house  near  Moorfields  could  be  called  such.  In 
Moornelds  he  sometimes  would  hear  part  of  a 
sermon  or  two,  and  for  an  hour  or  two  after  the 
orations  were  ended,  he  was  to  be  seen  disputing* 
among  the  mechanics,  who  very  often  came  there 
for  that  purpose.  In  the  afternoon  on  Sunday,  he 
would  go  to  the  above  public-house,  where  a  room 
full  of  persons  of  this  description  usually  met,  and 
one  or  other  of  them  would  first  read  a  chapter  in 
the  Bible,  and  afterwards  animadvert  on  what  he 
had  read,  and  as  many  as  were  disposed  to  it,  add- 
ed their  curious  remarks.  To  this  odd  groupe  of 
expositors,  I  was  orxe  introduced,  but  I  did  not 
repeat  my  visit. 

From  the  disputes  in  my  shop,  example,  &c.  I 
soon  came  to  think  that  the  Sabbath-day  was  no 
more  sacred  than  any  other  day  j  so  that  ijastead 


1.2 

of  attending  at  places  of  worship,  I  sometimes 
read  the  whole  of  the  day ;  at  other  times  I  walk- 
ed in  the  fields  with  Mr.  D.  his  son,  and  other 
disputants,  where  we  debated  various  subjects. 

I  believe  when  any  one  willingly  neglects  public 
worship,  he  will  not  long  be  attentive  to  private 
devotion  ;  it  was  at  least  the  case  with  me.  I  also 
soon  began  to  entertain  doubts  concerning  the 
doctrines  of  the  Trinity,  Atonement,  &c.  And  in 
proportion  as  I  relaxed  in  Christian  duties,  I  grew 
more  fond  of  such  disputes  as  had  a  tendency  to 
make  my  mind  easy  on  that  score. 

About  this  time  Mr.  R.  T — nl — y  advised  me 
to  read  the  memoirs  of  John  Buncle,  which  I 
soon  procured  and  read  through.  This  oernicious 
work,  (for  such  I  now  think  it  to  be)  at  once,  not  * 
only  eradicated  the  remains  of  Methodism,  but 
also  nearly  the  whole  of  Christianity, 

Faults  in  the  life,  breed  errors  in  the  brain, 
And  these,  reciprocally,  those  again  ; 
The  mind  and  conduct,  mutually  imprint, 
And  stamp  their  image  on  each  other's  mint. 

Co-svper. 

After  the  heterogeneous  example  of  John  Bun- 
cle, I  indulged  myseif  in  the  practice  of  many 
things  which  were  inconsistent  with  the  character 
of  a  Christian,  and  yet,  like  him,  I  was  not  wil- 
ling to  suppose  those  practices  were  at  variance 
with  the  most  exalted  notions  of  rational  Christi- 
anity. 

Having,  like  John  Buncle,  given  up  the  doc- 
trines of  the  Trinity,  Original  Sin,  Atonement 
made  by  Christ,  the  Obligation  of.the  Sabbath,  fcc> 


and  having  become  negligent  of  Christian  duties, 
and  a  little  relaxed  in  morals,  it  was  not  likely 
that  I  should  stop  here. 

I  think  it  was  in  this  year  ( 1 7T6)  that  I  became 
acquainted  with  one  whom  I  shall  call  Jack  Jolly, 
and  some  of  his  acquaintance,  all  downright  infi- 
dels ;  but  otherwise  shrewd,  sensible  men.  Of 
these  1  learned  the  names  of  such  others  as  had 
wrote  on  the  side  of  infidelity  ;  and  also  the  titles 
of  their  pernicious  productions. 

I  think  it  was  the  witty  sarcasms  and  vile  mis- 
representations of  Voltaire  that  first  made  me  en- 
tirely give  up  my  Bible,  from  which  I  had  in-past 
years  derived  so  much  real  comfort  in  the  most 
distressing  circumstances  of  great  poverty,  and 
very  great  affliction.  That  precious  book  enabled 
me  to  breakfast,  dine  and  sup  on  water  gruel  only, 
not  barely  with  a  contented  mind,  but  also  with  a 
cheerful  countenance  and  a  merry  heart.  It  was 
the  Bible  which  supported  me  under  the  several 
years  affliction  of  a  beloved  wife,  in  which  I  truly 
suffered  with  her  ;  it  was  that  book  which  enabled 
her,  although  young,  to  die  with  joy,  and  in  full 
and  certain  hope  of  a  glorious  resurrection. 
When  this  charming  young  woman  died,  I  also 
was  given  over,  my  soul  was,  as  it  were,  hover- 
ing on  my  lips,  just  ready  to  depart.  In  this  aw- 
ful crisis,  my  amiable  wife  gone  !  All  around  me 
expecting  the  moment  when  time  to  me  should 
be  no  longer  ! 

In  this  awful  situation  I  remained  a  long  time, 

how  long  I  know  not,  perhaps  a  week  or  weeks  ; 

yet  even  in  this  state,  although  more  dead  than 

alive,  did  the  divine  promises  contained  in  the  sa- 

B 


14 


. 


cred  pages  support  and  comfort  me,  so  that 
times  I  was  filled  with  inexpressible   pleasure^ 
In  these  moments  I  could  believe  that  I  was 

ff  A  glorious  partner  with  the  Deity, 

"  In  that  higii  attribute,  Eternal  Life — 

<f  I  gaz'd,  and  as  I  gaz'd,  my  mounting"  soul 

**  Caught  fire,  Eternity,  at  thee  ; 

u  And  dropp'd  tlie  world." 

Say,  ye  infidels  !  in  your  thoughtful  moments, 
why  would  you  deprive  your  poor  fellow-mortals 
of  that  which  alone  can  support  them  amidst  the 
complicated  miseries  to  which  we  are  exposed  ? 

Notwithstanding  I  had,  as  I  have  observed  be- 
fore, been  some  time  relaxing  in  religious  princi- 
ples and  duties,  yet  no  tongue  or  pen  can  describe 
what  I  felt  at  times,  on  relinquishing  the  volume 
which  contained  the  words  of  eternal  life  ;  but  it 
was  wrenched  from  me.  For  I  was  so  destitute 
of  knowledge  and  abilities,  as  not  to  be  able  10  an- 
swer the  witty  and  artful  objections  of  that  arch 
infidel  Voltaire,  and  others  whose  works  soon  af- 
ter I  read.  I  must  confess  that  I  felt  it  very  hard 
fc>  part  from  this  old  constant  companion  of  mine  ; 
and  should  have  been  glad  to  have  retained  its 
divine  consolations,  without  being  bound  to  obey- 
all  its  precepts.  But  as  that  could  not  be,  after 
many  struggles,  I  took  my  leave  of  that  inesti- 
mable treasure  of  wisdom  and  knowledge. 
I  am, 

Dear  friend, 

Yours. 


LETTER  II. 

-Proud  rationals, 


(That  deep  in  speculation's  wandering  maze, 
Bemuse  themselves  with  error,  and  confound 
The  laws  of  men,  of  nature,  and  of  heav'n,) 

Presumptuous  in  their  wisdom 

Dr.  D odd's  T noughts  in  Prison 

DEAR    FRIEND, 

HAVING  quite  done  with  the  word  of 
God,  I  soon  entirely  neglected  the  public  wor- 
ship of  God.  Before  this,  I  went  at  times  to  one 
or  other  of  Mr.  Wesley's  chapels,  or  to  some 
parish  church.  But  now  I  was  taught  to  believe, 
that  as  the  whole  world  was  God's  Temple,  I  could 
pay  my  devotions  to  him  at  any  time  and  in  any 
place ;  the  consequence  you  may  easily  imagine ; 
the  divine  Being  was  soon  too  much  out  of  my 
thoughts ;  the  Sabbath-day  was  spent  in  reading 
pernicious  books,  or  in  writing  my  catalogues,  ar- 
ranging my  books,  casting  up  my  profits,  visiting, 
Sec.  And  it  was  not  long  before  I  could  make  a 
hand  at  cards  on  that  day. 

As  soon  as  I  had  gone  through  Voltaire's 
pieces,  I  procured  other  works  of  the  same  ten- 
dency, and  in  reading  them  I  employed  most  of 
my  spare  hours  for  several  years.  And  although 
I  did  not  devote  so  much  time  to  them  after  this, 
but  read  also  history,  voyages,  travels,  poetry, 
novels,  &c.  yet  I  often  had  recourse  to  them,  and 
took  every  opportunity  of  purchasing  new  publi- 
cations which  had  the  same  pernicious  tendency  ; 


and  also  every  old  one  that  1  was  not  before  po.s? 
sessed  of;  so  that  at  last  I  had  got  nearly  the 
whole  of  this  species  of  writing  which  had  been 
published  in  the  English  language.  I  not  only 
procured  them,  but  read  them,  and  some  of  them, 
several  times  over,  with  a  pencil  in  my  hand  ta 
put  marks  to  the  most  particular  passages. 

I  also  procured  a  Bible  interleaved  with  blank 
paper,  and  transcribed  many  of  the  remarks  and 
objections  of  infidel  writers  to  various  texts  ;  and 
opposite  to  some  texts  I  even  wrote  my  own  ob- 
jections. Having  had  such  a  long  acquaintance 
with  the  authors  in  favour  of  freethinking,  I  am 
able  to  remark  that  Thomas  Paine,  and  other  mo- 
dern infidels,  instead  of  consulting  the  Bible,  have 
copied  the  objections  to  it,  from  those  authors 
that  preceded  them,  which  objections  have  been 
sibly  answered,  over  and  over  again,  by  men  of 
deep  learning  and  great  ability  ;  those  answers  I, 
like  other  freethinkers,  neglected  to  read,  until  a 
few  years  since.  Now  I  have  read  them,  I  am 
ashamed  of  having  been  so  easily  duped  and  cheat- 
ed out  of  my  Christianity. 

I  will  now  relate  the  progress  of  one  of  my  ac- 
quaintance from  serious  godliness  to  infidelity.  I 
will  call  him  Dick  Thrifty  ;  and  I  assure  you,  it  is 
nearly  the  case  with  marry  in  the  infidel  corps.  I 
must  first  inform  you,  that  most  of  the  freethink- 
ers that  I  have  known  in  the  lower  and  middle 
ranks  of  society)  were  once  influenced  by  religion, 
at  least  in  appearance. 

Dick  Thrifty  was  near  thirty  years  since,  like 
your  old  friend,  a  truly  pious  man  ;  at  least,  I  am. 
fully  persuaded  he  was  perfectly  sincere  iri  his  re- 


ligious  profession  :  he  being  of  an  open,  honest- 
hearted  disposition,  incapable  of  practising  any 
deceit;  About  the  years  1774  and  1775,  he  read 
a  good  deal  of  polemical  divinity,  and  by  this 
means  lost  that  simplicity  and  gentleness  of  dis- 
position so  essential  to  the  Christian  character- 
He  then  got  acquainted  with  some,  who  having 
given  up  one  point  of  Christian  doctrine  after  an- 
other, had,  in  the  end,  become  downright  infidels. 
These  acquaintance  advised  him  to  read  the  works 
of  Chubb,  Tyndal,  Morgan,  Collins,  Shaftesbury* 
Voltaire,  Bolingbroke,  Hume,  Sec.  Before  Dick 
had  read  a  quarter  part  of  those  books,  he,  like 
me  and  others,  quitted  his  religious  connexions. 
For  a  short  time  Dick  boasted  of  being  a  rational 
Christian,  and  talked  much  of  Chubb  as  being  a 
very  sensible,  clear  writer.  After  Dick  had  read 
Tyndal,  Collins,  Morgan,  and  Shaftesbury,  he 
"was  then  a  Christian  deist.  Before  Dick  had  gone 
through  Voltaire's  dcistica!  pieces,  he  gave  up 
Christ  entirely,  and  was  a  philosophical  deist ;  and 
pitied  the  poor  ignorant  Christians  for  suffering 
themselves  to  be  kept  in  the  dark.  But  Dick  had 
not  quite  finished  Bolingbroke's  philosophical 
works  before  he  was,  from  a  dignified  philosopher, 
sunk  down  to  a  reasoning  brute.  He  had  lost  his 
immortal,  immaterial  part  in  the  labyrinths  of 
metaphysicks.  Voltaire's  Ignorant  Philosopher 
made  Dick  a  Sceptic  ;  Heivetius  and  Hume  gave 
the  finishing  stroke  to  the  picture  ;  poor  Dick 
was  then  an  atheist  I 


B2 


Duped  by  iancy,  erring1  reason  stray'd 

Thro'  night's  black  gloom  ;  and  with  uncertain  stxp, 

Stumbled  from  rock  to  rock 

Ooii.vie's  providence. 

Although  Dick  did  not  long  remain  a  down- 
right atheist,  yet  he  long  continued  in  a  state  of 
distracting  doubt  and  uncertainty  ;  at  one  time  a 
deist,  then  doubting  of  every  thing,  even  of  his 
own  existence.  Now,  there  must  be  two  eternal 
substances,  matter  and  spirit,  and  then  there  can 
be  but  one,  which  must  be  matter.  Sometimes 
he  is  quite  sure  that  there  is  one  self-existent  be- 
ing, and  that  he  has  an  immaterial  soul  to  adore 
him  ;  then  again  he  is  perplexed  and  distracted 
with  doubts. 

Whenever  I  read  the  following  lines,  they  afc 
feet  me  much,  being  applicable  to  myself,  and 
many  others,  as  well  as  to  Dick. 

Poor  wretcli !  he  read,- and  read,  and  read, 

Till  his  brain  turned 

He  had  unlawful  thoughts  of  many  things  ; 
He  never  lov'd  to  pray 
With  holy  men,  nor  in  a  holy  place— 
— ^— It  is  a  perilous  tale  ! 

WORDSWORTh 

I  am, 
D£ar  friend',  Yours 


!9 


LETTER  III. 

But  when  no  female  arts  his  mind  could  move* 
She  turn'd  to  furious  hate  her  impious  love. 

DRYDEN'S  VIRGIL. 


-Hallow'd  is  the  nuptial  bed, 


©f  deeper  sanctity  than  oathy,  and  guarded 

By  justice.  potter's  a es chyles, 

DEAR    FRIEND, 

HAVING  informed  you  in  the  last  of  the 
extraordinary  revolution  that  took  placs  in  Dick's 
sentiments,  you  will  not  be  much  surprised  when 
I  inform  you  that  a  great  alteration  also  took  place 
in  his  life  and  conduct. 

I  knew  Dick  before  he  made  any  profession  oT 
religion,  and  thought  him  an  honest  well-meaning 
man,  a  facetious,  sprightly  companion  ;  his  tem- 
per tolerably  good  upon  the  whole;  if  affronted, 
passionate,  but  easily  pacified,  being  incapable  of 
bearing  any  malice  to  any  one.  He  was  grateful 
for  any  favours  or  kindness  towards  him  ;  open 
and  unsuspecting,  and  friendly.  I  believe  I  may 
add  that  he  was  capable  of  the  highest  degree  oC 
friendship.  His  sociable  turn  of  mind  at  times 
drew  him  into  convivial  parties. 

Before  he  turned  Methodist  andL married,  he 
was  addicted  to  the  pleasures  of  lawless  love  ;  but 
he  treated  the  sex  in  the  kindestmanner.  After  he 
turned  Methodist  be  lived  a  strict  religious  life, 
andwas>I  thinfc^as  I  before  observed,  perfectly 


20 

sincere  in  what  he  professed.  I  now  can  recollect 
that  he  had  some  enthusiasm,  and  a  spice  of  fana- 
ticism. Such  as  were  acquainted  with  him  thought 
that  he  generally  lived  a  contented  and  happy  life. 
He  bore  some  misfortunes  which  befel  him  with 
fortitude.  In  short  there  was  great  reason  to  be- 
lieve that  religion  had  made  a  radical  change  in 
his  heart  and  life. 

Reading  much  religious  controversy,  and  dis- 
puting about  doctrines,  has  hurted  many. 

They  dispute  so  much  and  long  about  it, 
That  even  themselves  begin  to  doubt  it. 

When  Dick's  mind  was  puzzled  he  was  not  so 
strict,  nor  so  universally  attentive  to  preserve  the 
christian  temper  and  manners  as  he  had  been  ;  so 
that  when  he  ventured  on  the  writings  of  free- 
thinkers, he  was  the  more  easily  seduced  from  the 
truth  and  simplicity  of  the  gospel.  For  some  time 
after  Dick  had  become,  in  his  own  conceit,  a  phi- 
losopher ;  he  talked  of  the  eternal  rule  of  right ; 
the  fitness  of  things,  of  loving  virtue  merely  for 
its  own  sake,  and  a  great  deal  to  the  same  purpose. 
Indeed  at  times  he  would  insinuate,  that  the  Chris- 
tian had  not  so  much  reason  to  dread  the  commis- 
sion of  sin  as  a  free-thinker  had  ;  that  infidels  of 
all  men  ought  to  be  careful  how  thev  lived,  as  they 
did  not  believe  that  there  was  any  intercessor  for 
transgressor  ;  but  it  was  remarked  that  he  grew 
more  relaxed  in  some  moral  duties.  It  is  true 
that  to  all  appearance  he  remained  an  honest 
generous  tradesman,  and  was  charitable  to  real 
objects  of  distress  •>  but  he  would  sometimes  spead 


the  major  part  of  the  night  with  free-tjiiiikittg 
companions  at  a  tavern.  Two  or  three  years  af- 
ter he  commenced  moral  philosopher,  he  was  not 
able  to  resist  the  charms  of  his  servant  maid,  al- 
though he  was  possessed  of  an  amiable  wife,  with 
whom,  to  all  appearance,  he  lived  very  happy,  and 
who  both  loved  and  esteemed  her  husband. 

-"Lust,  though  to  a  radiant  angel  linVd, 

Will  satiate  itseli'in  a  celestial  bed, 

And  prey  on  garbage." 
tf  But  virtue  never  will  be  moved, 
"  Though  lewdness  court  it  in  the  shape  of  heaven.^ 

In  novels  v/e  often  read  of  men's  planning  deep- 
ly, and  taking  incredible  pains  in  order  to  seduce 
wives :  in  real  life  even  the  most  profligate  part  of 
our  sex  do  not  commonly  attack  a  fort  that  appears 
to  be  impregnable,  nor  are  they  fond  of  going  on 
a  forlorn  hope.  Those  married  women  who  at  all, 
times  behave  themselves  as  the  delicacy  of  the 
female  character  requires,  have  seldom  complaints 
of  this  nature  to  make  Caesar  would  not  have  his 
wife  suspected  ;  no  doubt  but  he  had  the  same 
ideas  just  hinted  at  The  late  pious  Bishop  Wil- 
son says,  in  his  55th  sermon  :  u  Let  but  women  so 
behave  themselves,  as  that  the  men  may  think 
them  chaste  ;  and  they  may  be  confident,  nobody 
will  attempt  them  but  in  an  honest  way.9*  He  adds, 
"  But  this  is  the  real  occasion  of  so  many  miscar- 
riages : — people  discover,  cither  by  their  very 
vain  dress,  or  looks,  or  words,  or  behaviour, 
they  discover  that  they  do  not  fear  God,  that  they 
only  want  to  be  tempted;  and  this  encourages 


22 

those  that  arc  as  naught  as  thcrn selves  to  temrit, 
and  to  gain  their  wicked  ends  of  them." 

Although  Dick  wos  not  quite  so  abandoned  by- 
honour  and  conscience  as  to  be  capable  of  violat- 
ing the  tics  of  friendship  ;  yet  I  have  reason  to  be- 
lieve that  some  of  his  infidel  companions  would 
not  have  scrupled,  forta  moment's  gratification,  to 
have  sacrificed  the  peace  and  happiness  of  their 
clearest  friends. 

I  have  been  more  particular  in  describing  my 
friend  Dick's  infidelity  and  vice*  as  in  so  doing  I 
have,  in  some  particulars,  described  my  own  case 
and  that  of  others. 

I  am,  dear  friend, 

Your's* 


LETTER  IV. 

It  seem'd  as  though  his  conscience  would  permit 
A  momentary  pause,  for  one  short  gieam 
Of  hope  to  visit  his  benighted  soul. 

DEAR    FRIEND, 

I  THINK  you  will  be  glad  to  peruse  the  fol- 
lowing letters,  as  they  will  help  to  convince  you 
of  my  being  quite  in  earnest  in  renouncing  infidel 
principles  and  practices.  They  were  wrote  t%some 
of  my  old  sceptical  companions.  The  first  you 
will  perceive  was  wrote  when  I  only  began  to  see 
the  effects  of  infidel  principles  on  the  morals  of 
mankind,  before  I  was  convinced  of  the  truths  of 
revealed  religion.  It  was  sent  to  Jack  Jolly,  in 
March,  1799. 


u  Dear  Jack, 

"  I  am  uncertain  whether  you  are  dead  or  alive  ; 
in  this  world  or  in  a  better  ;  in  a  worse  you  can- 
not be.  Could  I  meet  with  Mercury  when  I  have 
finished  this,  I  would  transcribe  a  copy  of  it  and 
send  it  by  him,  directed  to  Jack  Jolly,  the  philo- 
sopher, in  the  Elysian  Fields — inquire  among  the 
votaries  of  Bacchus. 

"  As  far  as  it  regards  yourself  only,  I  do  not 
think  it  of  much  consequence  whether  you  are 
still  alternately  oppressed,  and  overwhelmed  with 
sickness  and  pain,  or  making  merry  with  your  jo- 
vial companions  over  a  bottle :  now  moralizing  and 
reasoning  on  moral  and  physical  evil ;  then  find- 
ing fault  with  administration  ;  one  -white  believing 
in  a  great  first  cause,  and  then  asserting  that  the 
universe  has  existed  from  all  eternity.  In  short, 
whether  you  are  still  going  on  in  the  old  dull  round 
of  a  little  pleasure  and  much  pain  ;  or,  whether 
you  have  quitted  this  insignificant  motley  scene, 
for  the  chance  of  losing  the  happiness  and  misery 
of  existence,  or  of  existing  in  a  happier  state  of 
things.  But  while  I  live  in  hopes  of  the  pleasure 
of  hearing  from  you,  (although  but  seldom)  and  of 
again  seeing  you  by  my  fire-side,  I  must  confess, 
that  I  am  so  selfish  as  to  wish  you  may  not  have 
had  the  start  of  me.  I  have  sent  you  two  letters 
since  I  received  one  from  you.  If  you  really  are 
in  a  state  of  mortality,  and  should  read  this,  do  as- 
sure me  of  it,  and  let  me  know  how  your  excellent 
wife  is,  and  your  children.  I  am  also  concerned 
to  k*iow  how  the  philosopher  your  brother  is. 

"  Tell  me  also  what  you  now  think  of  French 
philosophy  and  philosophers^    The  world  is  now 


24 

more  enigmatical  than  ever.  Plutarch  says  that 
superstition  is  worse  than  atheism ;  several  other 
philosophers  have  repeated  it  after  him*  and  you 
and  I  Jiave  believed  it ;  but  now  I  have  my  doubts 
about  it.  On  the  other  hand,  I  know  not  how  to 
believe  that  ignorance  and  error  can  promote  vir- 
tue ;  I  really  am  much  perplexed.  One  thing 
seems  certain,  the  breaking  down  of  the  old  su- 
perstitious dykes  has  brought  on  us  an  universa 
deluge  of  vice  and  immorality,  the  effects  of  which 
we  must  own  are  alarming  in  the  highest  degree. 

"I  have  observed,  that  for  a  year  or  two  past,  a 
shyness  has  taken  place  in  me  towards  my  free- 
thinking  authors ;  I  have  seldom  any  thing  to  do 
with  them.  Those  late  great  favourites  and  con- 
stant  companions  of  mine  are  now  neglected  and 
covered  with  dust ;  for  at  times  I  can  scarce  help 
thinking  them  chargeable  with  some  of  the  dread- 
ful evils  that  are  now  inundating  Europe. 

"  A  few  years  since  you  and  I  thought  it  Would 
be  charming  to  live  in  a  state  composed  entirely  of 
free  thinkers.  I  now  shudder  at  the  very  idea. 
No  doubt  there  are  some  speculative  infidels  who, 
like  you,  your  brother,  and  myself,  would  gladly 
act  their  part  in  society  by  endeavouring  to  pro- 
mote the  happiness  of  all  their  fellow  creatures, 
and  even  that  of  the  animal  world ;  but  we  now 
find  that  the  bulk  of  mankind  are  only  to  be  re- 
strained by  their  hopes  and  fears. 

u  I  am  now  grown  more  indifferent  than  ever  as 
to  what  others  do,  how  they  live,  Sec.  or  even  as  to 
what  they  think  of  me,  or  my  way  of  life.  I  know 
that  I  am  thought  to  be  a  strange  sort  of  a  fellow, 
as  I  neither  hunt,  shoot,  drink,  or  play  at  cards. 


I  read  until  I  am  tired.  I  then  walk  or  work  in 
my  garden,  and  in  bad  weather  I  cleave  wood,  &x. 
Once  a  Meek  I  dine  with  Mrs.  L.'s  father,  who; 
although  a  lawyer,  is  a  very  honest,  peaceable  gen* 
tleman.  He  is  also  good  to  his  poor  neighbours, 
and  goes  to  church  once  a  week,  except  1  happen 
to  be  there  on  Sunday  when  the  service  is  in  the 
afternoon,  when  I  keep  him  awake  by  relating  all 
the  droll  adventures  that  I  can  recollect.  In  my 
turn  I  patiently  listen  to  his  old  stories,  although 
I  have  heard  them  twenty  times  before;  long 
may  he  live  in  his  peaceable  and  quiet  mansion, 
I  am, 

Dear  Jack, 

Your  old  friend, 
Jlveston,  March  10,'//,  1799.  J.  L. 

I  have  since  learned  that  Jack  Jolly's  brother 
died  about  this  time,  and  that  Jack  survived  him 
only  about  a  year,  but  his  health  was  so  impaired 
as  to  render  !;im  unable  to  write.  What  were  his 
dying  sentiments  I  have  endeavoured  to  learn,  but 
without  success ;  I  fear  they  were  not  what  I  now 
could  wish  them  to  be,  as  I  wrote  to  an  old  infidel 
relation  of  his  to  know  what  state  his  mind  was  in 
when  dying,  but  I  never  received  any  answer.  As 
you  will  have  more  particulars  relating  to  Jack,  I 
will  now  add  no  more,  but  that, 

I  am,  dear  friend,  your's, 


2<3 


LETTER  V.* 


c<  For  hleaven  virtue  can  alone  prepare ; 
"  Vice  would  find  herself  unhappy  there.'^ 


OLD    FRIEND, 

I  REMEMBER  to  have  read  twenty  yeaTs 
since,  I  believe  in  a  translation  of  one  of  the  Clas- 
sics, of  a  man  that  was  suspected  of  having  mur- 
dered his  father  ;  but  as  no  positive  evidence  was 
advanced  against  him,  it  was  thought  unjust  to 
punish  him.  In  order  to  be  more  satisfied  in  the 
affair,  a  person,  unknown  to  him,  was  ordered  to 
pay  close  attention  to  him  every  time  he  went  to 
sleep,  which  was  accordingly  done  ;  and  on  this 
person's  reporting  that  the  suspected  man  slept 
perfectly  sound,  it  was  concluded  that  he  could 
not  have  murdered  his  father. 

I  was  led  to  the  recollection  of  the  above  story 
by  some  part  of  my  last  letter  to  you,  reflecting 
on  the  surprise  it  possibly  might  give  you  on  read- 
ing of  it.  I  was  by  a  train  of  reasoning  brought  to 
conclude  (as  I  have  no  faith  in  a  death  bed  repent- 
ance) that  if  a  person  cannot  sleep  soundly  who 
has  been  gulty  of  any  horrid  crime,  he  certainly 
cannot  die  in  peace,  but  will  be  tormented  by  his 
guilty  conscience  :  so  that  if  at  that  awful  period 
he  is  in  good   humour  and  can  laugh,  like  Ann 

*  This  letter  was  wrote  when  I  only  admitted  the 
truth  of  natural  religion /—The-  letter  alluded  to  in  tb'* 
is  oroitted. 


27 

JBoleyn  and  others  mentioned  in  my  last,  I,  with 
the  apostle,  "  trust  that  he  hath  a  good  con- 
science" 

But  my  dear  friend,  if  because  I  could  wish  to 
die  in  a  perfect  good  humour,  like  the  emperor 
Augustus,  you  think  me  a  mere  trifler,  and  an 
enemy  to  serious  thoughts,  you  never  was  more 
misUhen,  as  no  man  can  think  more  gravely  on 
serious  subjects  than  I  do  at  times,  and  that  fre- 
quently ;  but  then  I  insist  on  it,  that  a  time  of 
sickness,  when  the  body  is  overwhelmed  with  pain 
and  disorders,  is  not  a  suitable  time  for  repent- 
ance ;  much  less  should  that  important  work  be 
deferred  to  a  death-bed.  Nothing  surprises  me 
more  than  to  hear  or  read  that  rational  beings,  or 
some  who  would  be  thought  such,  talk  of  making 
their  peace  with  Heaven  on  their  death-bed. 

The  greatest  offenders  against  the  laws  of  soci* 
ety,in  general  shew  great  contrition  when  brought 
to  the  gallows  ;  yet  no  one  is  so  ignorant  as  to  be- 
lieve that  their  repentance  is  of  that  kind  as,  w  ere 
their  lives  spared,  would  prevent  them  from  com- 
mitting other  daring  offences.  How  then  can  we 
imagine  that  the  heart  of  a  villain  who  has  the 
good  luck  to  escape  the  gallows3  can  be  totally 
changed  on  his  de  nth -bed. 

I  wish  from  my  soul  that  our  dramatic  and  nov- 
el writers  had  not  given  so  many  deep  wounds  to 
morality  as,  from  observation,  I  have  great  rea- 
son to  think  they  have  done  by  their  frequent  insin- 
uations of  the  efficacy  of  a  few  days,  sometimes  a 
few  hours  repentance  or  remorse.  Surely,  in  all 
such  productions,,  every  villain  and  immoral  char- 


28 

actcr  should  be  "  sent  to  his  account  with  all  iliti 
imperfections  on  his  head :"  for  it  is  scarcely  pos- 
sible for  the  devil  himself  to  insinuate  any  ideas 
more  destructive  to  moral  rectitude  than  the  suf- 
ficiency of  remorse  of  conscience  on  a  death-bed. 
Homer  relates  the  death  of  lilpenor  in  a  very 
concise  manner;  and  to  Christians  it  must  appear 
awful : 

Fall  headlong  from  the  roof  the  sleeper  fell, 
And  snajjp'd  his  spinal  joint  and  wak'd  in  hell. 
pope's  odysey. 

I  have  often  been  puzzled  to  find  out  where 
those  authors  of  plays  and  novels,  (some  of  whom 
are  very  respect-able,  and  deserve  the  esteem  of 
the  community)  learned  their  notions  of  repent- 
ance. They  did  not  learn  them  from  the  scrip- 
tures, for  in  them  repentance  is  made  to  consist 
of  an  entire  change  of  heart  and  life.  Natural 
religion  teaches  the  same  doctrine.  By  the  works, 
of  the  learned  we  find  that  the  viedam  of  the  Per- 
sians, the  sacred  books  of  the  ancient  Bramins, 
the  morals  of  Confucius,  all  hold  forth  the  same 
notions  in  respect  to  repentance.  The  heathen 
philosophers  taught  the  same  doctrine  ;  Plato  says, 
that  such  men  as  have  only  committed  venial  sins, 
must  repent  all  their  lives  afterwards  ;  and  even 
though  they  spend  the  remainder  of  their  lives  in 
repentance,  yet  that  they  must  of  necessity  be 
cast  into  Tartarus  for  a  time.  This  great  philos- 
opher, in  his  Commonwealth,  and  also  in  his  trea- 
tise of  the  Immortality  of  the  Soui,  supposes  that 
souls,  both  good  and  bad,  carry  their  good  or  evil 


dispositions  -with  them  into  the  other  world  ;  or 
in  other  words,  that  every  man  carries  the  seeds  of 
eternal  happiness  or  misery  in  his  own  mind  :  so 
that  if  we  go  into  the  other  world  with  evil  pas- 
sions unmodified,  they  will  not  only  be  far  more 
violent  than  now,  but  our  perception  of  them  will 
be  pure  and  unalloyed  by  any  intermixture  of  en- 
joyment. 

Dr.  Scott*  in  the  three  first  chapters  of  his 
Christian  Life,  has  pursued  the  Platonic  doctrine 
through  all  its  consequences.  It  is  well  worth  the 
attention  even  of  a  philosopher.  Mr.  Boyd  has 
given  us  an  excellent  summary  view  of  the  Pla- 
tonic doctrine  with  respect  to  a  future  state,  at  the 
end  of  his  translation  of  Dante's  Inferno:  I  will 
give  you  a  few  short  extracts. 

"The  souls  of  men,  whenever  they  leave  the 
body,  doubtless  associate  with  spirits  like  them- 
selves.'* 

"  We  cannot  see  how  spirits  act  upon  each  oth- 
er, yet  there  is  no  doubt  but  the  plagues  inflict- 
ed by  spirits  upon  spirits  are  as  immediate  as 
those  inflicted  by  body  upon  body." 

"  What  woeful  society  must  that  be  ?  where  all 
trust  and  confidence  is  banished,  and  every  one 
stands  upon  his  guard,  tortured  with  eternal  vigi- 
lance of  surrounding  mischiefs  !  when  all  his  em- 
ployment is  diabolical  fraud.  Their  society  is 
like  the  monster  Scylla,  whom  the  poet  speaks 
of,  whose  inferior  parts  were  a  company  of  dogs 
continually  snarling  and  quarrelling  among  them- 
selves, and  yet  inseparable  from  each  other,  as 
being  parts  of  the  same  substance." 

C2 


11  As  the  punishment  arises  in  a  great  cegree 
from  the  acquired  habit,  it  must  last  as  long  as 
the  existence  of  the  criminal." 

In  every  act  of  virtue  there  is  an  imperfect  union 
of  the  soul  with  God,  and  some  degree  of  the 
pleasure  of  heaven.  When  habit  has  made  the 
exercise  of  virtue  delightful,  we  shall  find  our- 
selves under  the  central  force  of  heaven,  sweetly 
drawn  along  by  the  powerful  magnetism  of  ks 
joy  and  pleasure. " 

From  every  point  of  view,  I  think  it  is  evident 
that  repentance  does  not  consist  in  a  momentary 
sorrow,  but  in  a  change  of  disposition  and  life. 

I  must  confess  that  1  cannot  help  thinking,  that 
heaven  would  be  a  strange  sort  of  a  place  if  every 
rascal,  knave,  and  fool  were  permitted  to  go  there, 
who  have  on  their  death-bed,  experienced  remorse 
of  conscience.  Such  wretches  as  these  have  made 
a  hell  of  this  world  to  all  connected  with  them  ; 
and  are  they  to  make  a  hell  of  heaven  also  ?  Can 
one  conceive  a  worse  hell  than  it  would  be  for  a 
perfectly  honest  man  to  live  eternally  with  a 
rogue,  or  a  virtuous  woman  with  an  old  bawd  ? 

Wc  laugh  when  we  read  of  the  Indians  in  the 
East,  firmly  believing  that  if  they  can  but  die  with 
a  cow's  tail  in  their  hand,  they  are  (juite  sure  of 
going  to  heaven  ;  but  are  not  our  notions  to  the 
full  ;is  absurd  as  theirs  ?  Is  our  death  bed  repent- 
ance any  thing  more  than  a  cow's  tail  in  our  hand  ? 
;i  It  must  be  allowed  that  it  is  the  height  of 
presumption  to  set  bounds  to  the  mercies  of  God  ; 
but  may  it  not  give  encouragement  to  vice,  to 
Hatter  ourselves  with  the  expectation  of  pardon 


31 


Tor  the  greatest  crimes,  on  the  easy  terms  of  what 
we  call  repentance  ;  which,  after  all,  may  be  fal« 
bcious,  or  at  best  imperfect  ? 
I  am, 

Dear  Friend, 

YourV, 


BETTER  VI. 

O  ye  fallen  ! 
Fallen  from  [he  wiiigs  of  reason  and  of  hope,  f 
Erect  in  statute,  prone  in  appetite  ! 
Patrons  of  pleasure,  posting  into  pain  ! 
Lovers  of  argument,  averse  to  sense  ! 
Boasters  of  liberty,  fast  bound  in  chains  ! 
— Fall  he  must  wno  learns  from  death  alone 
The  dreadful  secret — that  he  lives  forever. 

NIGHT    THOUGH  Tf. 
DEAR    FRIEND, 

For  a  year  or  more  after  I  wrote 
the  last  of  the  two  preceding  letters,  I  continued 
in  a  state  of  perplexity  which  increased  upon  me< 
At  last  I  procured  some  books  in  defence  of  divine 
revelation,  and  soon  after  some  authors  on  prac- 
tical divinity  ;  but  it  was  with  difficulty  that  I 
prevailed  on  myself  to  avow  the  alteration  that  had 
by  that  time  taken  place  in  my  sentiments.  I 
however,  at  last,  wrote  the  following  letter  tu 
I  B. 

"  Old  Acquaintance, 
I  have  no  right,  nor  any  inclination  to  upbraid 
Von  ;  your  past  conduct,  on  reflection,  must  mak£ 


you  so  truly  miserable  as  to  render  you  an  object 
of  commiseration.  You  know  by  the  trifle  which 
I  sent  you  by  Mr.  D.  that  I  was  in  T — n  last  June, 
and  heard  without  much  surprise  that  you  were 
come  from  London,  and  was  then  in  the  poor-house. 
On  this  occasion  very  gloomy  ideas  took  posses* 
sion  of  my  mind ;  so  painful  were  my  feelings 
that  I  could  not  call  upon  you.  I  believe  few  peo- 
ple feel  more  than  I  do  on  seeing  an  old  compan- 
ion reduced  by  his  own  misconduct  to  a  state  of 
wretched  poverty ;  yet  painful  as  those  reflections 
were,  I  had  still  more  distressing  thoughts  of  your 
*ery  sad  case.  I,  in  imagination,  saw  you  stretch- 
ed on  a  wretched  bed,  groaning  under  the  aches 
and  pains  of  disease,  a  ruined  constitution,  and 
premature  old  age  ;  and,  what  is  still  a  thousand 
times  worse,  I  pictured  your  features  distorted, 
and  your  countenance  made  ghastly  by  the  ex- 
cruciating tortures  you  suffered  in  your  mind  ! 
Our  spirit,  or  fortitude,  may  support  us  in  bear- 
ing the  infirmities  of  the  body,  as  sickness  and 
pain  ;  but  a  wounded  spirit  who  can  bear  ?  I  have 
not  finished  my  melancholy  picture.  What  I  have 
to  add  is  still  more  dreadful !  This  poor  man, 
(said  I,;)  so  racked  and  tortured,  is  perhaps  without 
God  in  the  world  !  Horror  of  horrors  !  Of  all  the 
most  terrifying  ideas  this  is  now  to  me  the  most 
frightful  ?  To  be  without  God  in  the  world  ! ! !  Oh, 
ye  French  atheists,  take  away  our  liberty ;  take  all 
that  we  have  ;  put  us  in  a  dungeon,  or  on  the  rack  ; 
but  do  not  by  your  sophistical  arguments  endea- 
vour tojrob  us,  poor  wretched  mortals,  of  our  God ! 


A  soul  in  converse  with  her  God,  is  heav'n; 

Peels  not  the  tumults  and  the.  shocks  of  life  ; 

The  whirls  of  passion,  and  the  strokes  of  heart 

A  Deity  believed  is  joy  beg*un  : 

A  "Peily  ador'd  is  joy  advanced  ; 

A  Deity  belov'd  is  joy  matur'd. 

Each  branch  of  piety  delight  inspires  i 

Faith  builds  a  bridge  from  this  world  to  the  next, 

O'er  death's  dark  gulph,  and  all  its  horrors  hides  5 

Pia.se,  the  sweet  exhalation  of  our  joy, 

That  joy  exhalts  and  makes  it  sweeter  still  * 

rray'r  ardent  opens  heaven,  and  lets  down  a  stream* 

Of  glory  on  the  con  ecrated  hour 

Of  man  in  Audience  wi  Ji  the  Deity. 

Who  worships  the  great  God  that  instant  joins 

The  first  in  heav'n,  and  sets  his  foot  on  hell. 

YOUNG. 

The  reasonof  my  troubling  you  with  my  gloomy* 
thoughts  on  your  present  situation  and  state  of 
mind  is  this :  I  remember  between  twenty  and 
thirty  years  since,  you  was  made  acquainted  with, 
my  sceptical  state  of  mind  ;  and  although  1  he»ve£ 
approved  of  your  rudely  obtruding  your  opinions 
in  company,  or  your  endeavouring  to  turn  others 
out  of  the  good  old  way  ;  yet,  as  perhaps  by  my 
example  or  remarks,  or  by  lending  you  books  you 
may  have  been  more  or  less  confirmed  in  anti- 
christian  opinions,  I  could  not  rest  satisfied  un- 
til I  had  informed  you  that  my  mind  has  under- 
gone a  very  great  change  ;  that  I  have  a  thousand 
times  heartily  repented,  that  the  pernicious  writ- 
ings of  witty  infidels  should  ever  have  made  me 
even  doubt  of  the  truth  of  the  heart-improving, 
soul-cheering  doctrines  of  Christianity. 

I  must  also  inform  you  that   I  have  seen  the 
dread  fid  effects  of  infidelity  on  others.     Some  of 


$4 

my  mo^t  intimate  acquaintance,  before  they  were 
infected  with  infidelity  were  examples  of  piety  and 
virtue  ;  but,  having  once  turned  their  backs  on  the 
religion  of  Christ,  they  soon  became  slaves  to  the 
most  degrading  vices.  Several  that  you  saw  at 
my  house  when  you  first  came  to  London,  did  by 
their  sad  way  of  life,  bring  on  themselves  shock- 
ing disorders,  under  which  they  suffered  many 
years,  before  they  were  summoned  to  give  up 
their  accounts.  There,  profane  wit  and  ribaldry 
are  no  more. 

Although  I  have  an  aversion  to  fanaticism  and 
enthusiasm,  yet  I  would  much  rather  again  listen 
to  the  poor  ignorant  enthusiastic  David  Burford, 
whom  you  must  well  remember,  than  to  the  most 
shrewd  and  witty  remarks  of  my  o'd  freethinking 
acquaintance,  who  used  to  set  the  table  in  a  roar. 
These  clever,  sensible,  witty  fellows,  with  all  their 
subtile  reasoning,  had  not  understanding  enough 
to  live  like  rational  beings,  but  by  their  vicious 
practices  brought  on  themselves  years  of  pain  and 
misery,  and  shortened  their  existence.  The  good 
old  David  Burford's  fear  of  God  made  him  live  so- 
berly and  righteously;  his  faith  enabled  him  ma- 
ny years  to  bear  poverty  and  affliction  with  cheer- 
fulness, as  believing  that  all  would  work  together 
for  his  good — as  he  would  often  tell  us.  His  hope 
of  going  to  a  better  world  enabled  him  to  expect 
his  approaching  dissolution  with  joy. 

deep  is  the  st;  ke, 

An  I  awf  il  the  inquiry — how  the  spill 

May  smile  at  death,  and  meet  its  God  in  pence. 

DODD. 

O,  old  acquaintance,  this  very  poor  and  very 
ignorant  old  man,  was  \n  reality  much  wiser  than 


3*5 

we  have  been,  although  we  used  to  laugh  at  and 
despise  him.  May  we  begin  to  live  the  life,  that 
at  last  we  may  die  the  death  of  this  poor  simple 
weaver ! 

Among  all  your  freethinking  acquaintance  did 
you  ever  know  one  whose  reading,  learning,  or 
wit  enabled  him  to  live  so  uprightly  and  comfort- 
ably in  so  much  poverty  and  affliction  ;  or  who 
could,  like  him,  look  death  steadily  in  the  face 
with  humble  joy.     Young  says  truly, 

"  A  Christian  is  the  highest  stile  of  man." 

The  most  learned,  the  wisest,  and  best  of  men 
were  Christians.  In  reading  history  and  biogra- 
phy we  learn,  that  many  of  the  most  intelligent 
men,  after  many  years  spent  in  voluminous  libra- 
ries in  eager  search  of  science,  of  knowledge,  and 
wisdom,  have,  in  the  end,  thrown  aside  even  the 
most  respectable  works  of  ancient  and  modern 
philosophers,  moralists,  historians,  politicians,  po- 
ets, &c.  and  have  in  their  partly-neglected  Bible 
found  a  treasure  which  every  where  else  they  had 
sought  for  in  vain.  The  brightest  geniuses  havfe 
found  ample  satisfaction  in  that  book.  There  is 
the  sublime  and  the  beautiful  ;  the  most  pathetic 
stories,  and  elegant  parables  ;  the  grandest  de- 
scriptions and  the  most  august  ideas  of  the  Deity; 
the  most  perfect  morality  ;  the  greatest  motives 
to  virtue,aad  the  most  awful  denunciations  against 
vice.  In  a  word,  in  that  book  we  are  taught  the 
way  of  holy  living  ;  and  by  sjp  living  we  ensure  to 


ourselves  an  eternal  state  of  felicity  in  the  realms 
of  everlasting  light  and  love. 
I  a  in, 

Old  Acquaintance, 

Yours,  See. 

J.L 

jilveston,  Jan.  1,  1803 

To  this  letter  I  did  not  receive  any  answer  un- 
til Jiyiethe  same  year.  It  is  timeto  conclude  this. 
I  am, 

Dear  Friend, 

.  Your's, 


LETTER  VII, 

When  late  there  is  less  time  to  play  the  J'oot, 
Soon  our  whole  term  for  wisdom  is  expir'd, 
(Thou  kro^\st  she  calls  no  council  in  the  grave;) 
And  everlasting-  foot  is  writ  \x\firt\ 
Or  real  yvisdom  wai'is  us  to  the  skies. 

VOUN'G. 


DEAR  FRIEND, 

BY  J.  J>.'s  leter  to  me  in  June,  it 
appears  that  an  alteration  has  also  taken  place  in 
his  sentiments.  The  following  letter,  which  I 
sent  to  him  about  a  month  after,  will  sufficiently 
inform  you  of  the  contents  of  his  to  me. 

"  Old  Acquaintance, 
I  sincerely  rejoice  to  learn  from  your  letter  to 
me  that  GocJ  has  not  finally  given  you  over  to  strong 


157 

deluswns  still  to  believe  a  lie,  for  not  obeying  the 
gospel  of  Christ.  I  am  also  happy  to  learn  that 
you  have  a  better  conviction  than  that  which  only 
brings  with  it  a  fearful  looking  for  of  judgment  and 
t fiery  indignation,  which  is  ready  to  be  floured  forth 
on  the  adversaries  of  Christ.  May  God,  who  is  so 
rich  in  mercy,  establish  both  yowand  me  in  the  truth 
as  is  is  in  Christy  and  in  every  goodnvord  and  nvork, 
that  we  may  not  be  in  the  number  of  those  thai- 
draw  back  unto  Jierdit ion,  but  of  those  that  believe 
to  the  saving  of  the  soul. 

The  life  of  Christ  may  well  fill  you  with  admi- 
ration and  devotion.  I  was,  even  when  an  infidel, 
struck  dumb  and  confounded  whenever,  for  a  fe*w 
moments,  I  seriously  reflected  on  his  wonderful 
character.  We  have  not  only  been  wicked,  but 
also  astonishingly  stupid  in  professing  to  disbe- 
lieve miracles,  when  at  the  same  time  we  were 
obliged  to  believe  the  greatest  of  miracles  :  That 
the  son  of  a  poor  obscure  carpenter,  brought  up  in 
a  very  ignorant,  scandalous  village,  could  speak  az 
never  man  spake,  and  live  among  the  dregs  of  man 
kind  like  a  God ! 


-In  his  blessed  life, 


We  see  the  path, 'and  in  his  death  the  price, 
And  in  his  great  ascent,  the  proof  supreme 
Of  im  mortality. . 

DR.  YOUNG. 

You  say  that  you  have  but  one  book  of  youi* 
own,  which  is  the  New-Testament.  In  possess- 
ing that  you  have  the  best  book  in  the  world  ;  a 
book  which  angels  could  not  have  composed :  a 
book,  which  the  primitive  Christians  esteemed 
more  than  their  lives  \  rather  than  suffer  one  of 


the  Gospels  or  Epistles  to  be  destroyed  they  sub- 
mitted to  the  most  cruel  torments,  and  enuured 
the  most  lingering,  ignominious  deaths. 

But  for  this  book  we  should  have  been  in  worse 
than  Egyptian  darkness :  the  intellectual  world 
would  have  been  without  a  sun  ;  we  should  have 
blundered  in  the  dark  ;  have  stumbled  upon  error 
after  error,  without  one  cheering  and  enlightening 
ray 

(i  And  found  no  end  in  wondering-  mazes  lost." 

But  in  those  sacred  pages  life  and  immortality 
is  brought  to  light ;  a  glorious  prospect  is  open- 
ed to  us  beyond  the  grave,  where  clouds  and  dark- 
ness are  no  more 

I  am  glad  you  have  friends  who  will  lend  you 
plenty  of  books.  Yes,  he  must  be  stupid  indeed, 
whom  even  a  little  knowledge  in  astronomy  does 
not  fill  with  devotion. 

But  even  among  the  stars  do  not  forget  your 
New-Testament ;  that,  by  the  blessing  of  God, 
may  make  you  wise  unto  salvation  :  and  should 
that  really  be  the  case  with  you,  perhaps  you  may 
be  employed  to  all  eternity  in  contemplating  infi- 
nite wisdom  and  goodness  among  those  stupen- 
dous works  of  the  great  incomprehensible  CREA- 
TOR of  those  innumerable  worlds. 

Till  lost  in  one  immensity  of  space, 

A  sense  of  Deity  o'erwhelms  your  soul. 

COURTIER 

If  among  the  books  of  divinity  that  you  are  so 
kinxlly  offered  the  use  of,  you  can  borrow  any  of 


39 

the  following,  they  will  help  to  establish  you  in  jthe 
belief  of  the  truth  of  Divine  Revelation  : — Paley's 
Evidence  of  Christianity  ;  Bishop  Watson's  A- 
pology  for  the  Bible,  in  letters  to  Thomas  Paine  ; 
Bishop  Porteus'  Compendium  of  the  Evidences  of 
Christianity;  Addison's  Evidences  of  the  Chris- 
tian Religion  ;  Madame  Genlis'  Religion  the  only 
Basis  of  Happiness  and  true  Philosophy,  in  which 
the  Principles  of  the  modern  pretended  Philoso- 
phers are  laid  open  and  refuted,  2  vols.  Butler's 
Divine  Analogy;  Bentley  against  Collins  ;  Bent- 
ley's  Sermons  on  the  folly  of  Atheism  ;  Jenkin's 
Reasonableness  and  Certainty  of  the  Christian  re- 
ligion, 2  vols.  I  have  lately  read  the  whole  of  these 
works  with  great  satisfaction.  If  you  are  fond  of 
real  philosophy  and  astronomy,  you  will  be  highly 
pleased  with  Bentley 's  Sermons  on  the  folly  of 
Atheism.  Paley's  is  an  extraordinary  good  work. 
Butler's  Analogy  is  a  very  gr,eat  work.  Jenkin's 
is  the  most  copious  and  the  best  work  I  ever  read 
in  defence  of  divine  revelation.  It  treats  in  a 
clear  manner  of  the  necessity  of  a  divine  revela- 
tion, antiquity  of  the  scriptures,  God's  dispensa- 
tions under  the  Patriarchs,  Moses,  Judges,  Kings, 
and  Christ ;  the  wisdom  and  goodness  of  v;cd  is 
excellently  displayed  in  the  manner  of  the  promul- 
gation1 and  preservation  of  the  scriptures  ;  various 
difficulties  are  cleared  and  objections  answered. 
The  author  has,  through  the  whole  discovered 
great  depth  of  thought,  a  thorough  knowledge  of 
the  history  of  the  four  great  monarchies  men- 
tioned in  the  Old  Testament,  and  of  other  an- 
cient nations  ;  which  he  has  brought  forward  in 
conformation  of  the  truth  of  divine  revelation.    In 


4g 

reading  this  excellent  learned  production,  I  could 
not  help  reraarkiwg  the  wonderful  difference  that 
there  is  between  tiiis  work  and  the  poor  superfi- 
cial works  of  freethinkers.  Had  those  freethinkers 
ever  read  this  work,  tiiey  never  would  have  expo- 
sed their  own  ignorance  as  tbey  have  done  ;  and 
had  you  and  I,  and  others  of  our  acquaintance,  beeiv 
acquainted  with  it,  we  never  should  have  been  so 
seduced,  perverted  and  imposed  upon  by  shallow 
pretenders  to  sense  and  learning.  Were  I  still  a 
bookseller,  I  would  immediately  work  off  a  very 
large  impression,  sell  them  cheap,  and  disperse 
them  through  every  part  of  the  world.  The  work 
has  gone  through  various  editions.  It  has  been 
greatly  enlarged  and  improved  since  it  was  first 
published.  Before  I  conclude,  I  would  seriously 
advise  you  not  to  read  any  controversies  on  points 
of  doctrine  or  articles  of  faith  ;  what  is  absolutely 
necessary  to  be  known  is  plainly  revealed. 

"  Not  deeply  to  discern,  or  much  to  know, 
"Mankind  were  born  to  wonder  and  adore. 

The  more  you  read  the  New-Testament  the 
more  you  will  enter  into  and  partake  of  the  spirit 
of  it ;  and  your  love  for  it  will  increase  in  propor- 
tion. Read  also- as  much  practical  divinity  as  you 
can :  we  all  stand  in  need  of  every  aid  to  keep  us 
Mi  a  true  Christian  disposition,  and  steady  in  the 
profession  of  Christianity.     Dr.  Young  says, 

At  thirty  man  suspects  himself  a  fool : 
KncrtCi  it  at  forty  and  reforms  his  plan  r 
At  fifty  chicles  his  infamous  delay, 
Pushes  his  prudent  purpose  to  resolve-, 


41 

In  all  the  magnanimity  of  thought 

Resolves  ;  and  re -resolves  ;  then  dies  the- same. 

NIGHT   THOUGHTS. 

Neither  you  nor  I  considered  that  we  were  very 
great  fools  until  we  were  more  than  fifty.     The 
last  line  has  been  verified  in  thousands.  God  grant 
that  it  may  not  prove  true  of  us  also. 
I  am, 

Old  Acquaintance, 
Your's, 
Mvestcii)  July  28,   1803.  J.  L." 

You  see,  dear  friend,  the  melancholy  effects  of 
infidelity  even  in  this  life ;  to  what  poverty,  shame, 
and  disgrace  have  thousands  of  its  votaries  been 
reduced.  The  conversion  of  this  poor  creature 
should  also  encourage  us  to  use  what  abilities  we 
may  possess,  however  small  they  may  be,  in  order 
to  reclaim  others.  We  should  put  proper  books 
into  their  hands,  and  never  be  tired  or  discourag- 
ed. Small  causes  have  often  produced  great  ef- 
fects. I  have  been  just  reading  of  an  atheist  who 
was  converted  by  one  word.  The  story  is  related 
by  Madame  de  Genlisin  her  "  Religion  consider- 
ed as  the  only  basis  of  Happiness  and  of  true  Phi- 
losophy," vol.  i.  p.  76.  I  will  transcribe  the  pas- 
sage : 

She  says,  "  Others  after  having  doubted  all 
i;  their  lives,  change  in  a  moment  their  sentiments 
"  and  dispositions.  I  knew  a  man  of  great  sense 
<:  and  very  high  character,  whose  conversion  was 
"  brought  about  by  a  single  word.  He  was  yet  in 
&  the  age  of  the  passions ;  he  had  never  possessed 
L  2 


i 


42 

*  thp  least  principle  of  religion  ;  and  he  prided 
<c  himself  on  being  an  atheist.  One  day,  in  the 
"  presence  of  an  ecclesiastic,  equally  distinguish- 
**>  ed  by  his  eminent  virtues  and  talents,  he  affect- 
"  ed  to  brave  all  decorum,  which  ought  at  that  in- 
"  stant  to  have  constrained  him  to  have  held  his 
"  tongue  at  least ;  and  after  having  giver,  him  a  de- 

-  "  tail  of  his  sentiments  and  opinions,  he  ironically 
"  added,  that,  according  to  every  appearance,  he 
4<  should  never  be  converted.  Ah,  exclaimed  the 
"  ecclesiastic,  who  till  then  had  been  silent,  it 
**  you  could  but  hope  ! — He  said  no  more,  he  got 
u  up  and  went  out.  But  these  words  made  a 
u  deep  impression  upon  the  heart  of  the  atheist  : 

*  he  had  no  difficulty  to  comprehend  their  ener- 
w  getic  meaning  ;  he  felt  himself  moved  and  af- 
"  fected ;  a  croud  of  new  reflections  presented 
"  themselves  to  his  mind  ;  he  longed  to  see  and 
<*  converse  again  with  the  man  who  had  produced 
"  in  him  so  strange  a  revolution.  The  next  day 
K  he  even  went  in  search  of  him  ;  he  opened  to 
"  him  his  heart,  asked  his  advice,  hearkened  to 
"  him  with  attention,  with  eagerness  :  and  from 
"  that  moment  renounced  forever  the  vain  soph- 
4t  isms  of  false  philosophers.  Such  is  the  power 
u  of  grace,  it  can  produce  in  a  moment  the  most 
;i  surprising  metamorphoses,  and  its  effects  will 
a  ever  confound  the  incredulous  observer,  who 
§  shall  be  acquainted  with  the  human  heart/' 

I  am 

Dear  friend, 

Yours, 


LETTER  VIS. 

Ye  loVd  associates  of  unclouded  hours, 
Whom  I  remember  still,  where  are  ye  now  ? 
Ah,  whither  tost  by  life's  unfriendly  waves  ! 
Perhaps  on  earth  we  never  more  may  meet. 

COURTIER. 
DEAR    FRIEND, 

THE  two  preceding  letters  were  addressed  to 
Mr.  D.  and  by  him  conveyed  to  J.  B.  in  the  poor- 
house  in  T n.     When  I  was  an  apprentice, 

Mr.  D.  came  to  work  in  the  same  shop  as  a  jour* 
neyman,  and  two  or  three  years  after  the  death 
of  my  master  he  married  my  mistress,  to  whom 
he  made  an  excellent  husband  ;  he  buried  her 
two  or  three  years  since.  While  he  was  a  jour- 
neyman, I  advised  him  to  go  and  hear  the  Metho- 
dist preachers  ;  he  did  so ;  and  for  more  than 
thirty  years  has  been  an  upright,  friendly  religious 
man. 

As  Mr.  D.  is  a  very  old  acquaintance  of  mine, 
and  also  of  J.  B.  I  requested  him  to  read  my  first 
letter  to  J.  B.  as  he  was  ill.  The  reading  of  it 
gave  him  much  pleasure,  as  he  found  that  I  had 
again  embraced  that  religion  which  I  had  so  long 
disbelieved  ;  and  he  wrote  a  letter  to  congratulate 
me  on  the  occasion.  I  will  give  you  my  answer 
to  Mr.  D's  letter. 

u  SIR, 

M  You  perhaps  may  have  remarked,  that  when- 
ever I  visit  T — n,  I  also  always  visit  the  fields  by 
the  side  t£  the  river,  and  other  places  where,  in 


44 

my  youthful  days,  I  spent  many  of  my  leisure 
hours  ;  from  whence  you  may  infer,  that  in  those 
old  favourite  walks  I  endeavour  to  recollect  the 
old  and  pleasing,  sensations  which  I  felt  while  I 
was  conversing  with  my  old  companions  in  those 
charming  rural  retreats,  some  of  whom  are  now 
no  more. 

"  On  this  side  and  on  that  we  see  our  friends 
Drop  offline  leaves  in  autumn. " 

Others  of  them  have  lost  every  pious  and  vir- 
tuous sentiment :  so  that  I  cannot  visit  those  old 
delightfuljhaunts  without  finding  that  my  pleasing 
recollections  are  tinctured  with  melancholy. 

-Gracious  God  ! 


How  wonderful  a  compound,  mixture  strange, 
Incongruous,  inconsistent,  is  frail  man. 

1TR.   DODD, 

.  As  every  field  where  I  used  to  converse  with 
|*iy  old  acquaintance  affords  me  delight,  I  hope 
you  will  believe  me  when  I  assure  you  that  I  find 
great  pleasure  in  seeing,  or  even  hearing  from  any 
one  of  them  who  have  preserved  a  good  con- 
science. I  was  the  more  pleased  with  your  let- 
ter, dated  Jan.  17,  1803,  as  from  it  I  learn  (what 
I  had  long  since  forgot,)  that  it  was  at  my  request 
you  first  was  prevailed  upon  to  hear  those  men 
whose  discourses  first  made  a  religious  impression 
on  your  mind,  and  have  influenced  your  conduct 
ever  since.  I  am  not  a  Methodist  ;  yet,  I  must 
own  that,  as  by  their  means  you  have  been  bless- 
ed with  grace,  courage,  and  resolution  to  withstand 


45 

the  temptation  of  the  devil  and  a  sinful  world,  and 
have,  as  an  earnest  of  heaven,  attained  that  peace 
of  mind  which  worlds  cannot  purchase,  and  »o- 
thing  but  a  relapse  into  sin  can  destroy  ;  if  through 
them  you  attained  that  well  grounded  hope  which 
hath  kept  you  steady  in  all  the  storms  of  this 
tempestuous  state  of  things,  where,  at  times,  you 
can  extend  your  prospect  to  future  scenes  where 
all  is  calm  and  sunshine,  I  do  not  wonder  that 
you  should  wish  to  live  and  die  in  their  connec- 
tion. I  hope  I  shall  ever  love  and  honour  such 
of  your  community  as  by  their  lives  and  exam- 
ples shew  that  they  are  Christians  indeedl 

Have  you  not  remarked  that  those  who  have 
remained  the  most  steady,  have  in  general  been 
such  as  were  most  free  from  enthusiasm  and  fa- 
naticism ?  I  wish  those  who  think  that  they  now 
stand  firm,  may  take  heed  lest  they  fall.  Shall  I 
tell  you  that  most  of  the  free-thinkers  of  my  ac- 
quaintance were  once  professors  of  religion,  who 
had  contracted  a  habit  for  disputation.  It  has  of- 
ten happened  that  men  have  disputed  so  long- 
about  points  of  doctrine,  that  they  have  forgot  the 
principal  part  of  religion.  We  read  of  some  of 
old  who  held  the  truth  in  unrighteousness,  who 
are  considered  as  in  the  direct  road  to  delusion, 
and  likely  soon  to  believe  in  lies.  Indeed  it  ap- 
pears to  me,  that  it  is  of  little  consequence  what 
a  man  believes,  if  he  neglects  his  duty  towards 
God  and  man. 

I  think  the  following  passage,  which  gave 
Messrs.  Hill  and  Co-  so  much  offence,  and  was  the 
first  Cccasidn  of  the  controversy  between  them 


46 


and  Mr.  Fletcher,  ought  to  be  printed  in  letters  of 
gold,  and  hung  up  in  all  your  preaching  houses. 

The  passage  is  in  the  minutes  of  the  Confer- 
ence held  in  August,  1770.  Mr.  Wesley  says, 
"  Does  not  talking  of  a  justified  or  sanctified  state 
tend  to  mislead  men  ?  >  Almost  naturally  leading  them 
to  trust  in  what  was  done  in  one  moment  ?  Whereas 
we  are  every  hour  and  moment  pleasing  or  displeas- 
ing to  God  according  to  our  works,  according  to  oyr 
inward  tempers  and  outward  behaviour." 

But  to  return,  as  I  had  no  intention  to  ramble  at 
this  rate  ;  I  meant  to  observe,  that  although  living 
according  to  the  mild  precepts  of  the  gospel  is  the 
only  way  of  living  happily  in  this  world  ;  yet,  we 
are  such  poor  purblind  mortals  as  to  wish  to  ex- 
tinguish the  sun  and  walk  by  a  taper  ;  we  first 
grow  tired  of  the  necessary  restraints  which  the 
religion  of  Christ  enforces,  and  think  his  gracious 
precepts  hard  sayings:  in  this  state  of  mind,  having 
already  lost  part  of  the  disposition  and  temper  of 
Christianity,  we  grow  more  remiss  in  public  wor- 
ship and  private  devotion,  in  observing  the  sabbath, 
Sec.  then  conscience  upbraids  and  mak^s  us  un- 
happy ;  and  if  in  this  state  of  mind  we  happen  to 
read,  or  hear,  any  sceptical  arguments  against  re- 
vealed religion,  doubts  and  perplexity  succeed,  and 
the  more  a  person  doubts  of  the  divine  authority 
of  the  gospel  precepts,  the  more  careless  will  he 
live  ;  but  still  conscience  will  disturb  his  quiet 
and  perhaps  make  him  quire  miserable  at  times. 
In  this  unstable  state  he  may  continue  for  several 
months  or  years,  till  at  length  to  get  rid  of  his  un- 
easy mind,  he  dips  again  into  books  of  infidelity, 
where  probably  he  finds  God  represented  as  not 


47 

attending  to  the  frailties  and  follies  of  mortals  ;  or 
perhaps  he  finds  virtue  and  vice  represented  as 
qualities  capable  of  arbitrary  definitions,  revealed 
religion  as  mere  priestcraft,  Sec.  &c.  In  such  au- 
thors, specious  arguments  are  adduced,  often  good 
reasoning  from  wrong  propositions,  and  truth  and 
talsekood  are  so  artfully  blended  together,  that  in 
the  end  he  is  prevailed  upon  to  give  up  his  Chris- 
tianity, and  by  degrees  his  conscience  is  quite 
laid  asleep. 

In  my  next  I  will  give  you  a  further  account  of 
my  progress  in  infidelity. 

I  am, 
Sir,  your's,  &c 

I.  L." 

Alvexton  Feb.  8,   1803. 


LETTER  IX. 

In  hellish  banquets,  and  obscene  delights, 
The  curst  t^sembly  here  consume  the  nights. 

E.   ROWE. 


-But  if  there's  an  hereafter ; 


And  that  there  is  conscience  tells  every  man  ; 
Then  must  it  be  an  awful  thing  to  die. 

BLAIR 
DEAR    FRIEND, 

I  WILL  now  transcribe  my  second  letter  to 
Mr.  D.  I  know  m>i  well  how  to  make  it  shorter. 


48 


SIR, 


"  Perhaps  for  some  time  the  young  freethinker 
does  not  commit  any  great  sin,  at  least  not  what 
is  called  such  ;  it  is  likely  he  will  for  a  while  pride 
himself  on  his  very  decent  conduct,  and  talk  of  be- 
ing governed  by  the  religion  of  nature,  philoso- 
phical principles,  &c.  But  having  given  up  Chris- 
tianity, he  soon  grows  tired  of  his  religious  ac- 
quaintance, as  he  does  not  like  their  endeavours 
and  serious  arguments  to  convince  him  of  his  er- 
ror. Having  got  rid  of  his  pious  acquaintance,  he 
looks  out  for  some  of  those  who,  like  himself,  are 
become  philosophers.  With  ihose  he  at  first 
takes  "a  philosophical  walk,"  or  "  cup  of  tea-" 
As  their  acquaintance  increases  they  dine  at  each 
other's  house.  When  this  young  free-thinker  is 
thought  to  be  pretty  wellconfirmed  in  his  aversion 
to  Christianity,  he  is  invited  to  din©  or  sup  with  a 
party  of  those  philosophers  at  a  tavern.  The  two 
or  three  first  times  he  goes  home  early  and  in 
good  order.  In  those  convivial  parties  lie  hears 
many  stories  against  parsons,  and  many  witty  jests 
upon  religion,  under  the  name  of  superstition ; 
so  that,  by  degrees,  he  becomes  more  hardened, 
his  love  for  those  meetings  increases  and  makes 
him  unwilling  to  part  with  those  jovial  compani- 
ons. "  Sure  taking  a  cheerful  glass  can  be  no 
sin  :  God,  say  they,  delights  to  see  his  creatures 
happy:  let  us  have  another  bottle  ;"  which  is 
perhaps  accompanied  with  an  obscene  or  blas- 
phemous song.  Another  song  and  another  bottle 
is  called  for  until  they  are  intoxicated.  In  this 
state  they  reel  into  the  street  at  two  or  three  in 
the  morning?  where  they  are  sometimes  picked 


49 

up  by  the  prostitutes,  and  enticed  into  brothels^ 
from  whence  they  carry  home  to  their  wives  those 
loathsome  diseases  which  often  contaminate  the 
blood  of  several  generations,  and  fur  which  their 
own  children  will  perhaps  execrate  their  me- 
mory. 

In  this  manner  many  soon  learn  to  spend  most 
of  their  nights  ;  their  days  are  mostly  consum- 
ed in  sleep;  their  business  is  lost;  their  for- 
tunes run  out,  and  their  constitution  totally  ruin- 
ed. Some  of  them  are  carried  off  by  sudden 
deaths  ;  others  linger  out  a  few  years  in  great  mi- 
sery, and  then  die  in  a  horrid  state  of  doubt  and 
fearful  apprehension.  And  not  a  few  of  those 
philosophers  have,  by  their  principles  and  conduct 
brought  themselves  into  such  an  unhappy  state  of 
mind  as  not  to  be  able  to  endure  existence,  but 
have 

te  Just  reeking  from  self-slaughter,  in  a  rage, 
"  Rush'd  into  the  presence  of  their  Judge  ; 
"  As  if  they  challengM  him  to  do  his  worst.'* 

Although  those  imaginary  philosophers  see 
their  companions  drop  off  one  after  another,  they 
arc  so  far  from  taking  warning  that  they  do  all 
they  can  to  harden  one  another,  by  urging  every 
argument  they  can  think  of  against  the  immortali- 
ty of  the  soul,  a  future  state,  and  even  against  the 
very  being  of  a  God  ! 

I  could  fill  volumes,  were  I  to  be  particular,  in 
describing  the  beginning  and  progress  of  infidelity 
among  those  whom  I  have  known  since  I  first  com- 
menced bookseller,  as  many  of  them  came  often  to 
E 


my  shop,  and  about  twenty-two  years  since  I  was. 
often  in  such  taverns  and  meetings  as  I  have  re- 
ferred to  above. 

Before  the  French  revolution, infidelity  had  made 
great  havock  in  England  ;  but  there  is  great  reason 
to  fear  that  since  it  has  increased  an  hundred  fold  * 
and  God  only  knows  where  this  destructive  pesti- 
lence will  end.  It,  however,  is  matter  of  great  con- 
solation to  see  that  several  of  our  Bishops,  and  other 
sensible,  learned  clergymen,  and  also  some  able 
dissenting  ministers,  have  published  excellent  con- 
futations of  the  works  of  infidels.  The  clergy  have 
also  taken  other  wise  and  pious  measures  to  stop, 
as  much  as  possible,  the  progress  of  infidelity  ;  and 
every  man  that  has  any  regard  for  religion  or  mo- 
rality, should  put  a  hand  to  the  good  work.  Those 
who  can  afford  to  do  it  should  purchase  such  tracts 
against  infidel  principles  as  are  published  at  a  low 
price,  and  disperse  them  as  much  as  possible 
wherever  they  are  likely  to  do  good.  That  cheap 
editions  of  all  such  works  as  are  favourable  to 
Christianity  are  not  to  be  met  with  is  much  to  be 
regretted.  Several  of  those  works  might  be  de- 
cently printed,  and  well  afforded,  for  one  quarter 
their  present  prices.  It  is  owing  to  their  extra- 
vagant dearness  that  so  few  are  sold.  Had  they 
.  been  published  at  low  prices,  tens  of  thousands 
more  would  have  been  disposedof,  by  which  much 
good  might  have  been  done,  while  the  publishers* 
profits  would,  in  the  end,  be  greater,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  increased  sale  of  the  books.  It 
would  also  be  a  great  help  to  the  cause  of  religion 
?f  the  wealthy  part  of  the  community  were  todis- 


perse  cheap  tracts  on  practical  divinity,  togeth^f 
with  cheap  bibles,  and  testaments.  I  have  remark- 
ed, that  many  persons  who  would  not  be  at  the  ex- 
pence  or  trouble  of  purchasing  books,  will  either 
read  themselves  or  make  their  children  read  to 
them,  when  books' arc  put  into  their  hands. 

It  is  natural  to  add,  that  those  who  can  do  nor- 
thing else  for  the  cause  of  God,  should  shew,  by 
their  good  examples,  the  influence  of  religion  upon 
their  life  and  conversation  :  this  has  often  produ- 
ced great  effects  upon  scoffers.  On  the  other  hand, 
when  infidels  see  that  such  as  call  themselves  Chris- 
tians can  neglect  the  public  worship  of  God,  break 
the  sabbath,  be  covetous  or  prodigal,  proud  and 
overbearing,  or  mean  and  undermining,  drunkards 
or  gluttons,  defrauders  and  cheats,  backbiters  and 
slanderers,  swearers,  liars,  &c.  they  are  ready  to 
conclude  that  such  persons  do  not  believe  in  a  day 
*of  judgment,  when  every  one  shall  be  dealt  with 
according  to  the  deeds  done  in  the  body. 

The  late  pious  Bishop  Home,  in  one  of  his  ser- 
mons says,"  some  men  considered  as  Christians, 
engaged  in  the  concerns  of  a  better  world,  and  a 
view  of  their  conduct,  is  really  sufficient  to  make  a 
thinking  unbeliever  conclude,  that  nine  parts  in 
ten  of  them  either  believe  no  more  than  himself, 
or  that  a  statute  of  lunacy  should  be  forth  with  ta- 
ken out  against  them." 

I  know  that  freethinkers  will  divert  and  harden 
one  another  with  accounts  of  the  bad  practices  of 
such  as  pretend  to  believe  in  Christ :  so  that  such 
as  call  themselves  Christians,  and  at  the  same  time 
live  in  the  open  breach  of  God's  laws,  ars  strength* 


5» 

eiiingthe  cause  of  infidelity.  Those,  (saith  Christ,}, 
who  are  not  with  me  are  against  me. 
I  am, 

Sir, 
Your's, 
Aiveston,  Feb.    16,   1803.  J.  L." 

I  will  defer  the  remainder  of  what  I  wrote  to 
Mr.  D.  until  my  next. 

I  am, 

Dear  Friend, 

Your's 


LETTER  X. 

Wildly-wavering  rolls  the  dubious  mind 

From  thought  to  thouglvt,  uncertain  where  its  search 

Should  end  — 

*  *  *  #  #».*** 

Convinc'd  by  truth,  the  enlightened  mind  no  more 
Suspends  its  full  assent. 

ogilvie's  providence. 

DEA^l    FRIEND, 

I  WILL  now  give  you  my  list 
letter  to  Mr.  D. 

"  Sir, 
Yes,  Sir,  by  the  great  mercy  of  God  I  am,  (as 
you  say.)  returned  to  the  study  of  my  Bible.  You 
may  well  be  affected  with  my  wonderful  escape 
from  such  a  dreadful  precipice,  on  the  crumbling 
Brirtk  of  which  I  long  slept.     For  fhc9e  last  twoor 


three  years  I  have  not  even  loved  the  sight  of  that 
part  of  my  private  library  where  the  books  stand 
which  seduced  me  from  the  simplicity  of  the  gos- 
pel. They  have  been  to  me  Will  6*  the  Wis/is  ;  and 
1  have  followed  them  through  bog  and  quagmire, 
briars  and  thorns,  until  my  poor  benighted  and 
bewildered  mind  was  lost  in  such  a  labyrinth,  that 
it  was  next  to  impossible  for  me  ever  to  find  my 
way  out.  As  I  suppose  you  will  be  glad  to  know 
how  so  great  a  deliverance  was  effected,  I  will  give 
you  a  short  account  of  it. 

Notwithstanding  the  bad  lives  of  some  infidels  of 
my  acquaintance,  as  I  continued  to  retain  a  regard 
to  decency,  honour  and  honesty,  myself;  and  as  a 
few  freethinkers  are  studious,  and,  to  appearance, 
moral  characters,  professing  to  believe  in  natural 
religion,  while,  on  the  other  hand,  I  have  remarks 
ed  that  some  were  guilty  of  gross  enormities,  who 
yet  professed  to  believe  the  bible  to  be  the  word  of 
God ;  I,  for  a  long  time,  thought  that  infidels  were 
as  likely  to  be  governed  by  virtuous  principles  as 
Christians  were;  the  vicious  lives  of  some  preten- 
ders to  Christianity  in  some  measure  tended  to 
confirm  me  in  this  erroneous  conclusion.  I  wasstill 
more  confirmed  in  this  opinion  by  the  plausible 
reasoning  in  some,  infidel  writers,  who,  as  you 
know,  talk  much  about  moral  rectitude,  the  eter- 
nal rule  of  right,  moral  obligation,  moral  sense,  &:c. 
he.  Lord  Shaftesbury  goes  very  far  on  this  head, 
He  asserts  that  vice  as  much  disorders  the  mind 
as  disease  does  the  body  ;  which,  no  doubt,  is  true. 
He  is  also  right  in  asserting,  that  virtue  is  moral 
beauty^  and  vice  moral  deformitv.  But  bis  Lord- 
E2 


54 

sllip  goos  much  faruier  ;  he,  like  an  aneient  s<&t* 
of  heretics,  and  many  modefn  mystics,  says  a 
great  deal  about  loving  God  and  virtue  purely  for 
their  own  sakes,  without  any  regard  to  future  re- 
wards and  punishments ;  that  to  do  good  actions  in 
hopes  of  being  rewarded  is  mercenary  ;  and  that 
persons  influenced  by  such  motives  are  endeavour- 
ing to  overreach  the  Deity,  by  purchasing  eternal 
happiness  with  a  short  life  of  virtue.  He  insinu- 
ates that  the  old  saints,  who  had  respect  to  the 
recompence  of  reward,  were  cunning  people,  and 
only  good  from  the  fear  of  hell  and  the  hope  of 
heaven.  How  much  is  this  like  the  Devil's  ob- 
jection ?  Job  does  not  serve  God  for  nought.  In 
another  place  his  Lordship  asserts  that  there  is  no 
more  rectitude,  piety,  or  sanctity  in  a  creaturethus 
reformed,  than  there  is  meekness  or  gentleness 
in  a  tyger  strongly  chained,  or  innocence  and  so- 
briety in  a  monkey  under  the  discipline  of  the 
whip. 

If  the  rewards  proposed  to  christians  had  beeh 
like  those  promised  by  Mahomet  to  his  followers, 
sensual  and  voluptuous  ;  his  Lordship  would  have 
had  some  reason  to  object  to  their  being  proposed 
as  incentives  to  virtue  ;  but  the  idea  given  us  in 
the  New  Testament  of  the  happiness  in  a  future 
state  is  noble  and  sublime.  It  is  represented  as 
"  a  state  of  consummate  holiness,  goodness,  and 
M  purity,  where  we  shall  arrive  to  the  true  perfec- 
u  tion  of  our  natures  ;  a  state  into  which  nothing 
u  shall  enter  that  dejileth ;  where  the  spirits 
"  of  the  just  are  made  perfect,  and  even  their  bo- 
"  dies  shall  be  refined  to  a  wonderful  degree ; 
c*  where  tbe^  shall  be  associated  to  the  glorious- 


*  general  assembly  of  holy  and  happy  souls,  and 
a  to  the  most  excellent  part  of  God's  creation, 
"  with  whom  they  shall  cultivate  an  eternal  friend- 
"  ship  and  harmony  ;  and,  which  is  chiefly  to  be 
u  considered,  when  they  shall  be  admitted  to  the 
K  immediate  presence  of  the  Deity,  and  shall  be 
"  transformed  as  far  as  they  are  capable  of  it,  into 
"  the  divine  likeness.     Such  is  the  happiness  the 

*  gospel  setteth  before  us,  and  which  furnisheth 
"  a  motive  fitted  to  work  upon  the  worthiest 
11  minds.  And  the  being  animated  with  the  hopes 
u  of  such  a  reward  hath  nothing  mean  or  mercen- 
"  ary  in  it,  but  rather  is  an  argument  of  a  great 
"  and  noble  soul." 

As  to  the  fear  of  punishment,  his  Lordship,  al- 
though inconsistently  with  what  he  in  other  places 
asserts,  (in  vol.  ii.  page  273  of  his  Characteristics,) 
says, that  although  fear  is  allowed  to  be  ever  so 
low  or  base  ;  uyet,  religion  being  a  discipline,  and 
**  progress  of  the  soul  towards  perfection,  the  mo- 
"  tive  of  the  reward  and  punishment  is  primary, 
u.  and  of  the  highest  moment  with  us  ;  till  being 
"  capable  of  more  sublime  instructions,  we  are  let 
11  from  this  servile  state,  to  the  glorious  service  of 
"  affection  and  love." 

It  may  be  also  remarked,  that  after  a  wicked 
man  has  been  roused  by  the  terrors  of  the  Lord,  if 
he  continue  to  obey  the  good  motions  of  the  Spi- 
rit, God  then  gives  him  a  clean  heart,  and  renews  a 
right  sfiirit  within  him.  He  then  begins  to  love 
God,  and  fears  to  offend  him,  fears  to  be  separated 
fn>m  him  and  his  people  for  ever.     The  fear  fcf 


56 

hell  is  scarcely  remembered  by  a  real  Christian  : 
but  having  taken  God  for  his  portion,  for  his  su- 
preme happiness,  he  loves  God  because  Godjirst 
loved  him,  and  his  greatest  fear  is  lest  he  should 
do  any  thing  to  displease  him.  He  can  heartily 
and  truly  say  to  God, 


•Thou  art  my  all ! 


My  strength  in  age  !  my  rise  in  low  estate  ! 
My  soul's  ambition,  pleasure,  wealth  !  — My  world  ' 
My  light  in  darkness  !  and  my  life  in  death  ! 
My  boast  through  time,  bliss  through  eternity. 

But  to  return.  Although  I  imbibed  his  Lord- 
ship's refined  notions  of  virtue,  and  for  many 
years,  at  times,  talked  much  in  his  Lordship's 
strain,  I  found  those  notions  insufficient  to  pre- 
serve me  from  falling  into  some  vicious  courses. 
Nothing  but  the  belief  of  the  gospel  could  induce 
me  entirely  to  renounce  the  vices  and  follies  of 
the  world,  and  to  live  godly,  righteously  and  so- 
berly in  so  ungodly  and  dissipated  an  age.  The 
motives  held  out  by  other  systems  are  insufficient 
to  restrain  the  passions  and  evil  propensities  of 
man. 

Yet  was  I  so  attached  to  infidelity,  and  so  blind- 
ed by  it  as  not  to  believe  its  evil  tendency,  until 
for  some  time  I  had  observed  how  much  the  mo- 
rals of  men,  in  every  rank  and  station,  had  suffer- 
ed, in  a  great  part  of  Europe  ;  and  that  every  kind 
of  vice  was  gaining  ground  in  proportion  as  infi- 
del  books  and  principles  were  disseminated.  I 
then  began  to  see  that  religion  must  before  have 


p 

had  great  influence  on  the  morals  of  mankind, 
and  in  that  point  of  view  must  be  very  valuable  in 
society  ;  and  this  brought  on  more  serious  reflec- 
tions. 

I  have  for  many  years  taken  in  several  of  the 
Reviews  of  new  publications,  which  are  publish- 
ed monthly,  and  I  now  began  to  read  some  of  the 
extracts  which  the  Reviewers  make  from  sermons 
and  other  books  in  divinity.  In  those  extracts  I 
frequently  fownd  weighty  arguments  in  favour  of 
Christianity.  About  a  year  past  in  this  way,  dur- 
ing which  time  I  was  rather  in  a  careless  sus- 
pense, and  yet  I  was  more  attentive  to  my  words 
and  actions  ;  and  by  degrees  I  began  to  relish  di- 
vine subjects,  and  found  that  they  elevated  the 
mind  and  filled  the  soul  with  sublime  ideas.  I  now 
began  to  read  a  little  in  the  Bible,  and  took  some 
pleasure  in  it ;  and  I  became  more  and  more  se- 
rious and  thoughtful.  I  had  nearly  finished  a  se- 
cond volume  of  my  life,  which  I  intended  soon 
to,  publish.  I  now  read  it  over  again,  and  crop- 
ped out  and  put  in  again  and  again,  as  I  thought 
that  I  had  treated  serious  subjects  with  too  much 
levity  ;  but  after  all  the  alterations  I  was  not  sa- 
tisfied that  in  writing  against  fanaticism  and  en- 
thusiasm, I  had  not  said  what  might  hurt  some 
weak  christians,  or  what  might  be  by  freethinkers 
brought  against  Christianity.  I  was  now  also  a- 
fraid,  lest  by  ridiculing  and  laughing  at  enthusi- 
asm and  fanaticism,  I  should  not  only  langh  some 
out  of  their  enthusiasm,  but  of  their  religion  also. 
For  these,  and  other  reasons  of  the  same  nature, 
I  thought  it  best  not  to  publish  it,  by  which  I  have 


58 

disappointed  some  of  my  laughter-loving  acquaint- 
ance. 

As  soon  as  I  had  acquired  a  relish  for  religious 
subjects,  I  wished  to  promote  it  in  others,  and 
therefore  began  with  Mrs.  Lackington.  Mrs.  L. 
is  in  her  moral  conduct  one  of  the  most  perfect 
beings  I  ever  saw 

Her  reason  for  being  so  was,  "  because  she  al- 
ways thought  she  ought  to  be  as  good  as  she 
couid."  She,  like  some  other  ladies,  had  studied 
well,  and  very  well  understood  the  art  of  dressing 
elegantly,  but  bad  not  the  least  knowledge  of  re- 
ligion beyond  that  of  being  as  good  as  she  could  ; 
and  by  tiie  bye  it  were  to  be  wished  that  all  ladies 
even  knew  as  much  as  that.  As  to  going  to 
church,  or  private  devotion,  she  could  not  see  of 
what  use  it  could  be  to  her.  As  she  wanted  for 
nothing,  she  did  not  know  what  she  should  pray 
for ;  she  had  never  done  any  person  any  harm  ; 
she  had  never  slandered,  backbitten,  or  ridiculed 
any  person,  nor  did  she  know  that  she  had  com- 
mitted any  other  sin,  and  so  she  had  no  need  of 
praying  for  pardon. 

In  this  state  of  affairs  I  sent  to  my  late  partners 
for  Seeker's  Lectures  on  the  Catechism,  Gilpin's 
Lectures  on  the  same,  Wilson's  Sermons,  4  vols*, 
and  Gilpin's  Sermons.  These  are  very  plain  dis- 
courses, easy  to  be  understood,  and  calculated  to 
leave  a  very  lasting  impression  on  the  mind. 
T  ^se  excellent  sermons  Mrs.  L.  and  I  read  to- 
gether, and  while  they  convinced  her,  that  being 
"  as  good  as  s.ie  could,"  was  perfectly  right,  and 
of  die  utmost  importance ;  yet  that  there  was 


something  more  in  religion.  They  also  made  me 
more  in  love  with  Christianity.  I  also  sent  for 
Bishop  Watson's  Apoiogy  for  the  Bible;,  &c.  in 
Letters  to  T.  Paine  ;  Bishop  Porteus's  Compen- 
dium of  the  Evidences  of  Christianity,  Butler's 
Divine  Analogy,  Paley's  Evidences  of  Christianity, 
Pilgrim's  Good  Intent,  Pascal's  Thoughts,  Addi- 
son's Evidences  of  Christianity,  Conibeare  on  Re- 
vealed Religion,  Madame  de  Genlis's  Religion  the 
only  Basis  of  Happiness  and  sound  Philosophy, 
with  Observations  on  pretended  modern  Phii6so- 
phers,  2  vols.  Jenkin's  Reasonableness  and  Cer- 
tainty of  Christianity,  and  several  others  of  the 
same  tendency.  Those  excellent  defences  of  re- 
vealed religion  I  read  through,  during  which  I  had 
many  struggles ;  in  the  beginning  I  sometimes 
cried  out  in  the  words  of  Thomas,  "  Lord  I  be- 
lieve, help  thou  my  unbelief :"  before  I  had  read 
out  those  defences,  I  was  not  only  almost,  but  alto- 
gether persuaded  to  be  a  christian.  And  I  hope 
that  I  shall  always  endeavour  to  live  as  becometh 
the  gospel  of  Christ ;  and,  at  times,  I  feel  an 
humble  confidence  that  liod  has,  or  will,  pardon 
all  my  past  sins  for  the  sake  of  Christ,  and  by  his 
grace  enable  me  to  persevere  in  well  doing  to  the 
end  of  this  transitory  life,  and  then  admit  me  into 
that  state  where  the  wonders  of  his  grace,  and  the 
mysteries  of  his  providence  shall  be  more  clearly 
understood. 

I  meant  to  inform  you,  that  besides  those  books 
already  mentioned,  I  sent  for  Bishop  Home's 
Sermons,  4  vols.  Carr's  Sermons,  Blair's  Ser- 
monsa  5  vols*  Scott's  Christian  Life,  5  yoI^s.  seve- 


60 

jral  learned  and  sensible  expositions  of  the  Bible  ; 
Calmet's  Dictionary  of  the  Bible,  with  the  Frag- 
ments ;  Josephua's  Works,  Prideaux's  Connec- 
tions, 4  vols.  Mrs.  II .  More's  Works,  and  vari- 
ous other  excellent  Works.  For  some  time  one 
sermon  was  read  on  every  Sunday,  but  soon  Mrs. 
L.  began  to  like  them,  and  then  two  or  three  were 
read  in  the  course  of  the  week ;  at  last  one  at 
least  was  read  every  day,  and  very  often  part  of 
some  other  book  in  divinity,  as  Mrs.  L.  said  that 
she  preferred  such  kind  of  reading  far  beyond  the 
reading  of  novels.  So  that  for  some  time  we 
liave  read  more  books  on  divinity  than  on  any 
other  subject ;  and  now  Mrs.  L.  sees  very  im- 
portant reasons  for  going  to  church,  sacrament. 
&c. 

I  am,  Sir, 

Your's,  &c. 

Mveston)  Feb.  20th,   1803.  J.  L." 

I  have  now  given  the*whole  of  what  I  wrote  to 
Mr,  D.  and  will  add  no  more,  but  that 

I  am, 

Dear  friend, 

Your's. 


-SI 


LETTER  XL 


-.Brief  time 


Advances  quick  in  tread;  few  hours  and  dark 
Remain  :  those  hours  in  frivolous  employ 
Waste  not  impertinent ;  they  ne'er  return  ! 
Nor  deem  it  dulness  to  stand  still  and  pause 
When  dread  Eternity  hath  claims  sp  nigh. 

dr.  dodb. 
DEAR    FltlEND, 

THE  following  letters  were  sent  to  Tom 
Thoughtless,  an  infidel,  whose  vices  brought  ruin 
on  himself,  and  also  on  his  family. 
"  Sir, 
After  so  many  years,  you  will  perhaps  be  sur- 
prised to  see  my  bad  hand-writing  again— -A 
short  time  since,  I  found  among  my  books  a  thin 
folio  MSS.  in  turning  it  over,  I  found  copies  of  let- 
ters which  passed  between  you  and  me  in  the 
years  1777  and  1778:  I  read  them  over  with 
much  concern,  as  I  found  in  some  of  mine  to  you 
1  had  endeavoured  to  weaken  your  belief  in  the 
divine  authority  of  the  Scriptures,  and  some  of 
the  blessed  doctrines  which  they  contain.  My 
knowledge  is  very  circumscribed  now,  but  at  that 
time  it  was  much  more  so,  as  I  was  but  very  little 
acquainted  with  men,  and  less  with  books,  so  that 
it  is  not  surprising  that  I  should  not  be  able  to 
detect  the  sophistical  arguments,  and  other  vile 
arts  of  Chubb,  Tyndal,  Morgan,  Collins,  Shaftes- 
bury, Voltaire,  &c.  Nor  was  it  possible  that  I 
should  be  able  to  detect  the  misrepresentations 
F 


and  wrong  translations  of  many  texts  of  scripture 
and  of  passages  from  Greek  and  Latin  authors, 
that  are  to  be  found  in  their  works.  The  next 
twenty  years  I  procured  nearly  every  book  in  the 
English  4anguage  that  favoured  the  cause  of  infi- 
delity, and  employed  much  of  my  spare  time  in 
reading  them,  without  reading  the  many  able  con- 
futations that  had  been  published  to  expose  their 
folly  and  wickedness  ;  and  as  I  scarcely  ever  at- 
tended any  place  of  divine  worship,  it  was  scarce- 
ly possible  for  me,  under  these  circumstances,  to 
return  to  the  path  of  truth.  My  return  was  also 
rendered  more  difficult  by  my  conduct  in  life,  for 
1  fell  into  some  of  the  vices  and  follies  of  the  age, 
and  vice  never  fails  to  drive  us  further  from  truth 
and  God. — If  one  who  indulges  himself  in  sinful 
practices  should,  like  Pilate,  ask  What  is  truth  ? 
he  does  not  wait  for  an  answer,  but  dissolves  the 
court  of  Conscience. 

During  those  years  I  was  also,  as  you  know, 
taken  up  with  the  concerns  of  a  very  large  busi- 
ness ;  and,  I  am  sorry  to  add,  the  great  profits 
that  I  derived  from  that  business,  rather  tended 
to  drive  from  my  thoughts  those  important  con- 
cerns with  which  they  should,  more  or  less,  al- 
ways be  occupied.  But  I  am  able  to  say,  that 
although  I  got  money  very  fast,  particularly  dur- 
ing the  two  last  years  that  I  was  in  business,  and 
lived  in  an  expensive  style  ;  yet  I  never  so  fair 
lost  my  reason  as  to  suppose  that  riches,  or  a  vain 
parade,  could  ever  make  me  happy.  My  leisure 
hours  were  mostly  spent  in  retirement  at  my 
country -house.     There  I  read  those  publication? 


63 

that  have  been  sent  into  the  world  by  infidels.  I 
also  there  read  poetry,  plays,  novels,  voyages,  tra- 
vels, history,  &c.   &x. 

As  I  was  not  infatuated  by  the  love  of  riches, 
or  grandeur,  it  was  with  pleasure  I  first  took  part- 
ners into  my  very  profitable  trade,  on  very  easy 
terms  to  them,  and  soon  after  that  disposed  of  the 
whole  concern.  It  is  now  hear  eight  years  since 
I  first  retired  to  this  place,  nor  have  I  been  in 
London  since.  I  retained  a  share  of  my  business 
for  about  two  years  and  an  half  after  I  came  here, 
and  then  made  over  the  whole  to  my  cousin,  Mr, 
George  Lackington,  and  those  gentlemen  who 
were  my  partners  before. 

In  this  retreat,  I  pursued  the  same  course  of 
reading,  until  I  was  roused  from  my  careless  state 
of  mind,  by  observing  the  dreadful  effects  which 
had  succeeded  the  spreading  of  infidelity.  The 
more  I  reflected,  the  more  was  I  filled  with  horror 
at  the  moral  depravity  that  I  saw  increasing 
among  all  ranks.  From  those  reflections  1  was 
soon  led  to  conclude,  that  the  works  which  had 
produced  such  baleful  effects,  must  be  fatally 
wrong.  By  degrees  I  laid  my  freethinking  books 
aside,  and  began  once  more  to  study  my  Bible. 
To  assist  me  in  that  study  I  sent  for  several  learn- 
ed, sensible  commentaries  on  the  scriptures,  and 
also  for  many  other  books  in  divinity,  including 
the  best  answers  that  had  been  made  to  writers  on 
the  side  of  infidelity  ;  so  that  I  am  now  convinced 
of  their  sophistry,  misrepresentations,  unfair  quo- 
tations, and  other  vile  arts  with  which  therr  works 
abound. 


1  had  also  again  recourse  to  Young's  Night 
Thoughts.  The  5th,  6th,  7th,  and  Sth  Nights, 
are  replete  with  strong  arguments  against  infidel- 
ity, so  that  I  can  scarcely  think  it  possible  for  the 
most  confirmed  infidel,  who  is  capable  of  under-r 
standing  the  force  of  the  arguments,  and  will  read 
them  with  proper  attention,  to  help  being  convin- 
ced of  the  truth  of  Christianity.  But  it  is  a  me- 
lancholy truth,  that  vice  greatly  tends  to  stupify 
the  mind,  and  often  makes  us  blind  to  divine 
truths;  the  late  pious  Bishop  Home  says,  Mid- 
"  night  overwhelmeth  not  the  earth  with  a  gross- 
"  er  darkness,  than  that  which  is  superinduced 
"  upon  the  heart  of  man,  when  it  de parte th  from 
"  God,  and  is  turned  away  from  its  Maker.  He 
u  that  followeth  not  Christ  walketh  in  darkness, 
"  because  the  light  of  life  shineth  no  longer  upon 
"  his  tabernacle  1" 

I  have  for  seme  years  been  acquainted  with  the 
history  of  Greece,  and  with  the  various  opinions 
<-  the  Grecian  philosophers,  yet  the  new  and 
pleasing  form  in  which  it  is  dressed  up  in  Bar- 
thelemy's  Travels  of  Anacharsis,  induced  me  to 
read  it  again  lately,  and  by  reading  it  I  was  con- 
firmed in  the  belief  of  the  truths  contairied  in  the 
gospel.  The  truly  great  and  good  men  of 
Greece,  hundreds  of  years  before  Christ  came, 
discovered  that  man  had  departed  from  his  origi- 
nal state  of  purity ;  that  happiness  in  this  life 
was  only  to  be  attained  by  a  virtuous  conduct ; 
they  also  taught  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  a 
future  judgment,  and  that  the  vicious  should  be 
punished,  and  the  virtuous  rewarded  in  another 
world. 


The  shallow  superficial  pretended  philosophers 
of  our  day,  affect  to  disbelieve  the  Christian  doc- 
trines.  Many  of  the  philosophers,  and  other 
great  men  of  Greece  and  Rome,  who  lived  in  the 
time  of  the  apostles  and  their  immediate  succes- 
sors, who  had  every  opportunity  of  inquiring  into 
the  truth  of  what  they  asserted  concerning  Christ, 
his  miracles,  death,  resurrection,  ascension,  his 
sending  down  the  Holy  Spirit,  miraculous  gifts, 
Sec.  Those  philosophers,  statesmen,  courtiers. 
Sec.  were  so  thoroughly  convinced  of  the  truth  of 
what  the  apostles  and  followers  of  Christ  asserted, 
and  of  the  doctrines  they  taught,  that  they  openly 
professed  themselves  to  he  christians,  although 
they  well  knew  that  by  so  doing  they  should  be 
•deprived  of  their  riches,  pomp  and  grandeur ; 
they  gladly  embraced  a  life  of  poverty,  ignominy 
and  suffering  ;  and  at  last  shed  their  blood  in  the 
glorious  cause. 

The  scorching'  fire,  the  racking"  wheel, 
The  scourging  rod,  and  bloody  steel ; 

Each  ruthless  instrument  of  pain 
That  t}a*aniiy  could  e'er  devise, 

Or  hellish  foes  inflict,   were  vain, 
To  shake  the  courage  of  the  skies  ! 
These  hopes  no  earthly  terrors  could  subdue  ; 
Consummate  happiness  appear'd  in  view. 

COURT  IE  it. 

Our  freethinkers  reject  the  miracles  wrought 
by  Christ  and  his  followers,  and  yet  they  would 
have  us  believe  far  greater  miracles ;  as  they 
would  persuade  us,  that  a  poor  carpenter's  son, 
without  books,  ar  even  a  place  to  IaylJhi§  head, 
F2 


66 

yet  that  this  poor  houseless  man,  and  a  few  plain 
iishermeiii  were  able,  of  themselves,  to  lay  down 
the  most  perfect  system  of  morality  that  ever 
was  taught  by  mortals,  and  by  so  doing,  exceed 
all  the  most  learned,  the  wisest  and  best  lawgiv- 
ers, and  philosophers  that  ever  the  world  hath 
produced  :  and  that  those  fishermen  should  give 
up  all  their  former  prejudices  and  religious  no- 
tions, should  quit  all  their  friends  and  acquaint- 
ance, and  embrace  a  life  of  poverty,  endure  un- 
speakable hardships,  submit  to  the  greatest  suf- 
ferings, imprisonments,  and  the  most  painful 
deaths.  And  all  this  to  propagate  (according  to 
infidels)  what  they  must  know  to  be  a  falsehood. 

So  that  infidels  who  charge  Christians  with  be-  - 
ing  credulous,  are  far  more  so  themselves,  they 
being  in  re  'ity  the  most  credulous  beings  in  the 
world.  Moieover,  infidels  know  that  not  a  parti- 
cle-of  divisible  matter  can  peiish,  yet  would  they 
have  us  believe  that  the  soul,  which  is  spiritual, 
immaterial,  indivisible,  and  immortal,  can  be  an- 
nihilated. 

There  is  yet  a  greater  absurdity  which  they 
would  have  us  believe,  viz.  that  millions  of  effects 
have  taken  place  without  a  cause,  or  that  second 
causes  may,  and  actually  do  exist  without  a  first. 

Now,  when  you  learn  that  I  read  and  seriously 
reflect  as  above,  I  presume  you  will  not  be  much 
surprised  that  I  should  again  return  like  the  poor 
prodigal,  and  acknowledge  that  I  have  sinned 
against  heaven. 

I  must  also  inform  you,  that  I  have  seen  the 
most  dreadful  effects  of  infidelity,  not  only  amongst 
mankind  in  general?  but  also  ambugst  my  ac- 


quaintancc  ;  some,  who  before  they  commence^ 
freethinkers,  were  upright,  honest,  industrious 
men,  and  as  such  were  prosperous  in  their  vari- 
ous lines  of  business  ;  on  turning  freethinkers  be- 
came knaves  and  cheats,  debauchees,  &x.  Seve- 
ral of  these  you  well  know  ;  their  vile  conduct  i*. 
also  well  known  to  you,  nor  are  you  ignorant  of 
the  ruin  that  they  brought  on  themselves  and  fa- 
milies. I  thiak  you  also  knew  A.  B.  and  his 
brother ;  they,  it  is  true,  retained  their  honest 
principles  ;  but  they  learned  very  bad  habits,  took 
to  drinking  and  debauchery,  which  brought  on 
A.  B.  dreadful  disorders  ;  he  lived  some  years  in. 
a  miserable  state,  and  died  about  three  years  sincc^r 
Jiis  brother  died  a  year  before  him.  You  also 
Know  that  D.  C.  turned  free-thinker  near  thirty 
years  since,  shut  up  his  shop,  left  his  wife  and 
children  to  the  parish,  or  to  the  wide  world,  sunk 
down  among  the  dregs  of  Society  in  London,  and 
about  twenty  years  since  was  turned  out  of  the' 
Lock  Hospital  incurable  ;  when  I  was  in  T — n 
last  June,  he  was  in  the  poor-house  in  a  miserable 
state  of  body,  and,  no  doubt,  of  mind  also.  J.  D. 
whom,  with  other  jovial  companions,  perhaps 
you,  when  you  was  in  London,  saw,  died  soon  af- 
ter that  time.  T.  x\.  ran  off,  and  left  five  poor 
servant  girls  with  child  by  him.  I  have  never 
since  heard  of  him.  I  have  not  time  to  give  you 
account  o£  others. 

What  horrid  effects  the  principles  of  freethink- 
ers have  had  on  yourself,  your  wife,  and  brother, 
I  leave  you  to  reflect  on  ;  I  must  just  remark,  that 
you  and  your  brother  might  now  have  been  gen- 
tec!  tradesmen,  your  wife  might  have  been  still 


<*8 

alive  and  happy,  and  each  of  your  families  brought 
up  in  the  principles  of  religion  and  virtue. 

It  is  well  known,  that  thousands  by  becoming 
unbelievers  have  forsaken  their  religious  and  mo- 
ral habits,  and  become  depraved  and  miserable  in 
both  body  and  mind.  Many  have  been  reduced 
to  such  an  extremely  wretched  state  as  not  to  be 
able  to  bear  the  miseries  which  they  had  brought 
on  themselves,  and  so  have  cut  short  that  life 
which  was  become  a  pest  to  society,  and  an  intol- 
erable burden  to  themselves.  Others  have  taken 
leave  of  this  world  under  the  gallows,  and  some 
are  in  the  road  to  it.  I  am,  Sir,  sorfy  that 
your  conduct  has  for  many  years  prevented  me 
from  subscribing  myself, 

Your  friend, 

jUveslon,  Feb.  25,  1.803.  J.  L  " 

Although  I  have  transcribed  so  long  a  letter, 
yet  I  must  inform  you,  that  soon  after  R.  W. 
became  a  free-thinker,  his  wife  became  not  only  a 
free-thinker,  but  a  free-actor.  They  lived  at  some 
rate  together  for  many  years ;  at  last  a  separation 
took  place,  but  she  proving  with  child  while  se- 
parated from  her  husband,  to  hide  her  disgrace 
took  something  to  cause  an  abortion,  which  de- 
stroyed her  own  life. 

I  am, 

Dear  Friend, 

Your's. 


69  ;1 


LETTER  XII. 

The  Libertine  his  folly  shall  lament, 
His  blind  extravagance  that  made  him  sell 
Unfading-  bliss,  and  everlasting- crowns, 
Immortal  transports,  and  celestial  feasts, 
For  the  short  pleasure  of  a  sordid  sin, 
For  one  fleet  moment's  despicable  joy. 
Too  late,  ail  lost,  forever  lost, 
Gives  to  his  soul  perpetual  wounds. 

E.  ROW*, 

Oh,  Conscience,  into  what  abyss  of  fears 

And  horrors  hast  thou  driven  me  ;  out  of  which 

I  find  ao  way,, from  deep  to  deeper  plung'd. 

milto:?. 

DEAR    FRIEND, 

I  WILL  now  transcribe  a  copy  of  xny  secondf 
letter  to  Tom  Thoughtless. 

"sir, 

I  know  not  of  any  sight  so  shocking  as  that  o£ 
a  poor  self-condemned  infidel  on  a  sick  bed.  Whila 
he  suffers  the  most  acute  bodily  pain,  he  has  na 
cordial  to  cheer  his  drooping  spirits.  No  1  his 
mind  labours  under  the  most  gloomy  apprehen* 
sions  !  Those  joyous  companions  with  whom  he 
used  to  dissipate  his  time  and  substance,  are  so 
far  from  giving  him  any  comfort,  that  the  sight  of 
any  of  them  adds  to  his  misery  ;  he  is  ready  to 
curse  them  in  the  bitterness  of  his  soul,  for  hav- 
ing been  instrumental  in  perverting  bim.  The 
weaker  his  body  grows,  the  more  strong  does  he 
find  that  reasoning  faculty  within  him,  and  which 
he  fancied  would  die  with  the  body.     How  gladly 


70 

would  be  exchange  states  with  his  dog  that  ticks 
his  burning  hand,  which  in  anguish  he  throws 
over  the  side  of  his  bed.  When  in  health  he  de- 
graded himself  to  a  brute,  and  now  he  envies  the 
beast,  and  looks  upon  him  as  a  superior  being- 
Annihilation,  at  which  one'ssoul  shudders,  and 
which  nature  abhors,  would  now  be  a  happy  re- 
lief; But  he  is  too  late  convinced  that  his  soul  can 
never  cease  to  exist.     Young  says, 

Men  may  live  fools,  but  fools  they  cannot  die*. 

While  in  health,  and  high  spirits,  with  his  scep- 
tical companions  about  him,  he  co\ild  laugh  at  re- 
ligion, and  at  hell,  and  even  pass  his  jokes  on  the 
awful  Majesty  of  heaven  and  earth  ;  and  call  his 
existence  in  question  :  could  represent  Christ  as 
a  fanatic,  a  lunatic,  or  as  a  downright  impostor. 
Tnis  shocking  delusion  is  now  over,  he  now  finds 
that  the  eyes  and  hand  of  God  are  upon  him,  and 
that  he  must  soon  be  dragged  to  his  awful  tribu- 
nal: Now  he  would  give  worlds  to  have  an  inter- 
est in  that  divine  Intercessor,  whom  he  has  so  of- 
ten laughed  at  and  despised  ;  black  despair  now 
seizes  his  mind,  not  a  ray  of  hope  can  pierce 
through  the  gloomy  horrors  of  his  soul  ;  pray  he 
cannot,  nor  has  he  a  wish  so  to  do :  his  hell  is  al- 
ready begun,  and  he  dreads  a  worse  to  come  ;  at 
last  he  expires  in  tortures  not  to  be  described. 

In  that  dread  moment,  how  the  frantic  soul 
Raves  round  the  walls  of  her  clay  tenement, 
Runs  to  each  avenue  and  shrieks  for  help; 
But  shrieks  in  vain  !— How  wishfully  she  looks 


71 

On  all  she's  leaving,  now  no  longer  her -a  i 
A  little  longer,  yet  a  little  longer, 
Oh  might  she  stay  to  wash  away  her  stains 
And  fit  her  for  her  passage  !— Mournful  sight  1 
Her  very  eyes  weep  blood  ;—  and  every  groan 
She  heaves  is  big  with  horror.— But  the  foe, 
Like  a  staunch  murd'rer  steady  to  his  purpose, 
Pursues  her  close  through  every  lane  of  life, 
Nor  misses  once  the  track,  but  presses  on  : 
Till  forc'd  at  last  to  the  tremendous  verge, 
At  once  she  sinks  to  everlasting  ruin  ! 
t 
I  did  not  intend  to  quote  so  much,  yet  I  cannot 
help  transcribing  the    following  narration  from, 
Dr.  Young's  Centaur  not  Fabulous, 

c  I  am  about  to  represent  to  you  the  last  hours, 
of  a  person  of  high  birth  and  great  parts. 

'  The  death-bed  of  a  profligate  is  next  in  horror 
to  that  abyss  to  which  it  leads.  And  he  that  has 
seen  it,  has  more  than  faith  to  confirm  him  in  his 
creed.  I  see  it  now,  For  who  can  forget  it  ?  Are 
there  no  flames  and  furies  ?  You  know  not  then 
what  a  guilty  heart  can  feel.  How  dismal  it  is  I 
The  two  great  enemies  of  soul  and  body,  Sickness 
and  Sin  sink  and  confound  his  friend  ;  silence  and 
darken  the  shocking  scene.  Sickness  excludes 
the  light  of  heaven ;  and  sin  its  blessed  hope. 
Oh  !  double  darkness  I 

4  See,  how  he  lies,  a  sad  deserted  outcast,  on  a 
narrow  isthmus,  between  time  and  eternity  !  For 
he  is  scarce  alive.  Lashed  and  overwhelmed  on 
one  side,  by  the  sense  of  sin ;  on  the  other,  by 
the  dread  of  punishment !  Beyond  the  reach  of 
human  .help,  and  in  despair  of  divine  ! 


72 

1  The  ghost  of  bis  murdered  time,  (for  now  no  < 
more  is  left)  all  stained  with  folly,  and  gashed 
"with  vice,  haunts  his  distracted  thought.  Con- 
science) which  long  had  slept  awakes.  Its  late 
soft  whispers  are  thunder  in  his  ears ;  and  all 
means  of  grace  rejected,  exploded,  ridiculed,  is 
the  bolt  that  strikes  him  dead.  He  lies  a  wretch 
ed  wreck  of  man  on  the  shore  of  eternity,  and 
the  next  breath  he  draws  blows  him  off  into  ruin. 

6  The  greatest  profligate  is,  at  least,  a  mom  en 
tary  saint,  at  such  a  sight;  for  this  is  a  sight  that 
plucks  off  the  mask  of  folly,  strips  her  of  her  gay 
disguise,  which  glitters  in  the  false  lights  of  this 
world's  mummery,  and  makes  her  appear  to  be 
folly,  to  the  greatest  fool. 

4  Is  not  the  death-bed  of  a  profligate  the  most 
natural  and  powerful  antidote  for  the  poison  of  I 
his  example  ?  Heals  not  the  bruised  scorpion  the  ! 
-wound  it  gave  ?     Intends  not  Heaven,  that  struck  j 
•with  the  terrors  of  such  an  exit,  we  should  pro- 
Tide  comfort  for  our  own  ?  Would  not  he,  who  | 
departs  obdurate  from    it,      continue   adamant,  j 
though  one  rose  from  the  dead  ?  For  such  a  scene 
partly  draws  aside  the  curtain  that  divides  time 
and  futurity  :    and  in   some    measure    gives  to  I 
sight  that  tremendous ,  of  which  we  only  had  the  ' 
feeble  report  before. 

'An  agonizing  profligate,  though  silent^  out- 
preaches  the  most  celebrated  that  the  pulpit  ever 
knew  :  but  if  he  speaks^  his  word  might  instruct 
the  best  instructors  of  mankind.— Mixt  in  the 
•warm  converse  of  life,  we  think  with  men  \  on  a 
death-bed  with  God. 


f3 

The  sad  evening  before  the  death  of  that  noble 
youth,  whose  last  hoiussuggested  these  thoughts* 
I  was  with  him.  No  one  was  there,  but  his  phy- 
sician, and  an  intimate  whom  he  loved,  and  whom 
he  had  ruined.  At  my  coming  in  he  said,  You 
and  the  physician  are  come  too  late — I  have  nei- 
ther life  nor  hope  You  both  aim  at  miracles— 
you  would  raise  the  dead.' 

1  I  said,  Heaven  was  merciful. — (He  replied,) 

4  Or  I  could  not  have  been  thus  guilty.  What 
has  it  not  done  to  bless  and  to  save  me  ?  I  have 
been  too  strong  for  Omnipotence  !  I  have  pluck- 
ed down  ruin." 

4  I  said  the  Blessed  Redeemer. — (On  which 
he  said,) 

4  Hold  !  Hold  !  You  wound  me  ! — That  is  the 
rock  on  which  I  split — I  denied  his  name.' 

4  Refusing  to  hear  any  thing  from  me,  or  take 
any  thing  from  the  physician,  he  lay  silent,  as 
far  as  sudden  darts  of  pain  would  permit,  till  the 
clock  struck.  Then  he  with  vehemence  cried 
out, 

4  Oh,  Time !  Time  !  It  is  fit  thou  shouldest 
thus  strike  thy  murderer  to  the  heart.  How  art 
thou  fled  for  ever  ! — A  month  !  Oh,  for  a  single 
week  !  I  ask  not  for  years  ;  though  an  age  were 
too  little  for  the  much  I  have  to  do.* 

4  On  my  saying,  We  could  not  do  too  much  : 
that  Heaven  was  a  blessed  place  ! — (He  said) 

4  So  much  the  worse.  'Tis  lost !  Heaven  is  to 
me  the  severest  part  of  hell.' 

4  Soon  after,  I  proposed  prayer.  (On  which  he 
said 

G 


74 

'Pray  you  that  can.  I  never  prayed. — Nor 
need  L  Is  not  heaven  on  my  side  already  !  It 
closes  with  my  conscience.  It's  severest  strokes 
but  second  my  own.' 

'  His  friend  being  much  touched,  even  to  tears, 
at  this  (who  could  forbear  ?  I  could  not,)  with  a 
most  affectionate  look,  he  said 

'  Keep  those  tears  for  thyself.  I  have  undone 
thee. — Dose  weep  for  me  ?  That's  cruel.  What 
can  pain  me  more  ?" 

c  Here  his  friend,  too  much  affected,  would  have 
left  him.  But  he  said,  "No,  stay.  Thou  still 
mayest  hofie. — Therefore  hear  me.  How  madly 
I  have  talked  ?  How  madly  thou  hast  listened 
and  believed  ?  But  look  on  my  present  state,  as 
a  full  answer  to  thee  and  myself.  This  body  is 
all  weakness  and  pain  ;  but  my  soul,  as  if  stung 
up  by  torment  to  greater  strength  and  spirit,  is 
full  powerful  to  reason  ;  full  mighty  to  suffer. 
And  that  which  thus  triumphs  within  the  jaws 
of  mortality,  is  doubtless  immortal. — And  as  lor  a 
Deity )  nothing  less  than  an  Almighty  could  inflict 
what  I  feel.' 

4 1  was  about  to  speak,  when  he  very  passion- 
ately said. 

*  No,  no  !  let  me  speak  on.  I  have  not  long  to 
speak.— -My  much  injured  friend  !  my  soul,  as 
my  body,  lies  in  ruins  ;  in  scattered  fragments 
of  broken  thought ;  remorse  for  the  past  throws 
Tny  thought  on  the  future.  Worse  dread  of  the 
future,  strikes  it  back  on  the  past.  I  turn,  and 
turn,  and  find  no  ray.  Didst  thou  feel  half  the 
mountain  that  is  on  me,  thou  wouldst  struggle 
with  the  martyr  for  his  stake  ;  and  bless  heaven 


for  the  flames : — that  is  not  an  everlasting  flame 
— that  is  Rot  an  unquenchable  fire.' 

<  How  were  we  struck  !  Yet  soon  after,  still 
more  !  With  what  an  eye  of  distraction,  with 
what  a  face  of  despair,  lie  cried  out, 

6  My  principles  have  poisoned  my  friend  ;  my 
extravagance  has  beggared  my  boy  :  my  unkind- 
ness  has  murdered  my  wife  !  And  is  there  ano- 
ther hell  ?  O  thou  blasphemed,  yet  most  indul- 
gent, Lord  God  !  Hell  itself  is  a  refuge,  if  it  hides 
me  from  thy  frown/ 

*  Soon  after  his  understanding  failed.  His  ter- 
rified imagination  uttered  horrors  not  to  be  repeal- 
ed, or  ever  forgot.  And  ere  the  sun  arose,  the 
gay,  young,  noble,  ingenious,  accomplished,  and 
most  wretched  Altamont  expired.' 

Man,  foolish  man  !  no  more  thy  soul  deceive  ! 

To  die  is  but  the  surest  way  to  live.  broome- 

I  believe  we  should  have  many  such  dreadful 
examples  on  record,  were  clergymen  called  to  visit 
the  death-bed  of  infidels,  as  in  this  case  ;  but  few 
infidels  will  consent  for  that  to  be  done  ;  for  al- 
though they  may  see  that  they  have  been  fatally 
misled  ;  yet  a  state  of  desperation  will  prevent 
them  from  calling  on  God  themselves,  or  request- 
ing any  one  to  do  it  for  them.  But  to  return  to 
myself.  I  must  inform  you,  that  itvas  not  by 
merely  reading  of  defences  of  Christianity,  &c. 
that  I  was  enabled  to  discover  its  truth,  and  be- 
lieve its  doctrines.  I  was  for  some  time  in  a 
state  of  suspense,  doubt  and  distraction.  But 
soon  the  pure  precepts  of  the  gospel  began  to  have 


76 

some  influence  on  my  life  and  conversation ;  as  I 
perceived  that  the  morality  taught  by  Christ  was 
infallibly  right,  and  I  resolved  to  regulate  my  con- 
duct according  to  his  instructions,  at  least  as  much 
as  I  could  :  I  left  oft*  cursing  and  swearing,  filthy 
talking,  &c.  By  caution,  1  soon  was  able,  in  a 
great  measure,  to  refrain  from  breaking  out  into 
violent  passions  on  small  provocations:  to  be 
short,  I  endeavoured  to  resist  every  evil  propensi- 
ty and  disposition,  and  I  prayed  for  divine  assist- 
ance to  enable  me  so  to  do ;  and  soon  ^ound  my- 
self much  freed  from  evil  words,  actions,  and 
thoughts ;  and  found  much  satisfaction  in  my 
mind  on  being  able  to  conquer  bad  habits, 

I  had  not  long  lived  as  much  like  a  Christian  as 
I  could,  before  I  began  to  believe  like  one.  The 
words  of  Christ  were  verified  in  me.  If  saith 
he,  ye  will  do  the  will  of  God*  ye  shall  kn§w  of  the 
doctrines  which  I  teach,  whether  they  be  ef  God. 
And  I  cannot  help  believing,  that  such  as  truly 
and  sincerely  perform  their  duty  towards  God 
and  man,  will,  by  some  means  or  other,  be  led  to 
the  knowledge  and  belief  of  ali  such  truths  as  are 
absolutely  necessary  to  be  believed.  But  while 
we  are  guilty  of  impiety  towards  Cod  and  of  doing 
to  our  neighbours  as  we  would  not  that  they 
should  do  to  us,  it  is  no  wonder  if  we  should  ever 
be  learning,  and  never  be  able  to  come  to  the  know* 
ledge  of  the  truth. 

By  this  time  I  can  scarcely  think  it  possible  for 
you  not  to  see  that  the  Christian  has  very  great 
advantages  over  an  infidel.  Infidelity  tends  to 
degrade  and  sink  the  man  to  a  brute.  Christian- 
ity dignifies  and  exalts  its  votaries  to  the  skicw. 


17 
-Man  all  immortal,  hiwl 


Hail,  heav'n — All-lavish  of  strange  gifts  to  man  \ 

Thine  all  the  glory  ;  man's  the  boundless  bliss: 

Oh,  may  I  breathe  no  longer  than  I  breathe 

My  soul  in  praise  to  him,  who  gave  my  soul, 

And  all  her  infinite  of  prospect  fair.  dr.  yor  K c '. 


Devotion  elevates  the  soul  to  its  native  dignity 
when  renewed  by  divine  grace  it  as  naturally  tends 
to  the  great  source  of  its  happiness,  as  fire  does 
towards  the  sun,  or  as  waters  towards  the  sea. 
While  others  are  saying,  Who  will  shew  us  any 
good  ?  Who  will  shew  us  the  way  to  be  happy  t 
The  Christian  says,  Lift  up  thou  the  light  of  thy 
countenance  ufwn  me.  You  know  where  it  is  also 
said,  that  God  will  keefi  him  in  perfect  peace  whose 
mind  is  stayed  upon  him.  In  all  these  changes 
and  troubles  of  this  mortal  stale,  he  has  a  divine 
cordial  to  refresh  and  cheer  his  spirits  when  weak 
and  faint ;  even  death  itself  cannot  terrify  him 
who  stedfastly  believes  in  him  who  is  the  resurrec- 
tion and  the  life.  No  one  ever  heard  of  a  christian 
that  was  troubled,  or  terrified  in  his  conscience 
when  he  came  to  die,  for  having  been  a  christian ; 
but  on  the  contrary,  tens  of  thousands  have  in 
their  last  hours,  set  their  seal  to  the  truth  of  its 
divine  doctrines,  and  have  quitted  this  life  in  cer- 
tain hope  and  joyful  expectation  of  a  blessed  immor- 
tality. 


The  ehamber  where  the  good  man  meets  his  fate 
Is  privileged  beyond  the  common  walk 
Of  virtuous  life,  quite,  in  the  verge  of  heaven, 
G2 


73 

Before  I  bid  you  farewell  for  ever,  I  beg  you  tM 
excuse  my  giving  you  the  trouble  of  reading  two 
such  long  letters,  as  I  could  not  rest  satisfied  in 
my  mind,  if  I  had  not  informed  you  of  the  altera- 
tion that  has  taken  place  in  my  sentiments,  and 
of  course  in  my  life.  I  hope  that  ytu  also  will 
see  what  a  dreadful  delusion  you  have  for  so  ma- 
ny vears  been  under.  Should  that  not  be  the 
case,  I  would  wish  you  to  remember  that  a 
christian  has  greatly  the  advantage  of  you.  Were 
it  possible  for  him  to  be  in  a  delusion,  it  must  be  a 
happy  delusion  that  affords  such  sources  of  com- 
fort in  this  state  of  existence,  and  even  in  the  hour 
of  death.  And  in  case  there  should  be  no  future 
state,  you  will  not  be  able  to  laugh  at  him.  But 
should  the  infidel  be  in  a  delusion  !  The  dye,  the 
fatal  dye  will  then  be  cast,  and  all  will  be  lost 
for  ever  I 

I  am,  Sir, 

Yours, 

J.  L," 
Jlvesto?i,  Feb.  27,  1803 

Although  I  have  transcribed  this  very  long  let- 
ter, yet  I  must  inform  you,  that  the  person  to 
whom  this,  and  the  preceding  one  were  wrote, 
leads  so  bad  a  life,  that  I  have  but  small  hopes 
that  they  will  make  any  lasting  impression  on  him. 
I  am, 

Dear  Friend, 

Your's. 


79 

LETTER  XIIL 

-■■  i        "  Those  dreadful  dangers  pa6t, 

"  Knowledge  will  dawn  and  bless  the  mind  at  last." 

DEAR    FRIEND, 

NOT  many  miles  from  this  place  lives  nay  old 
friend  Dick  Thrifty,  who  was  introduced  to  you 
in  a  former  letter.  I  lately  paid  him  a  visit,  and 
soon  suspected  that  some  alteration  had  taken 
place  in  Dick's  sentiments  from  the  change  which 
I  perceived  in  his  conduct.  I  informed  you  that 
after  Dick  commenced  freethinker,  he  was  not 
always  able  to  resist  the  temptations  of  immodest 
women.  At  this  interview  I  remarked  that  he 
was  disgusted  with  a  genteel  dressed  man  for  ha- 
ving talked  loosely  in  the  absence  of  the  ladies  ; 
he  repeated  the  two  well  known  lines  of  Pope 

Immodest  words  admit  of  no  defence, 
For  want  of  decency  is  want  of  sense. 

I  also  observed  that  he  was  displeased  with  ano- 
ther of  the  company  for  speaking  disrespectfully 
of  the  clergy  in  general.  "  Whenever  I  hear  (said 
Dick)  any  person  vilify  the  clergy  as  a  body,  I 
am  obliged  to  conclude  that  he  is  not  only  an  en- 
emy to  religion,  but  also  a  foe  to  morality,  and  of 
course  a  very  great  enemy  to  society.  I  think  it 
is  Addison  who  says,  That  such  as  are  prejudiced 
against  the  names  religion,  church,  priest,  and 
the  like,  should  consider  the  clergy  as  so  many 
philosophers,  the  churches  as  schools,  and  their 


8Q 

sermons  as  lectures,  for  the  reformation  and  im- 
provement of  their  audience.  How  would  the 
heart  of  Socrates  or  Tully  have  rejoiced,  had  they 
lived  in  a  nation  where  the  law  had  made  provi- 
sion for  philosophers  to  read  lectures  of  morality 
and  theology,  every  seventh  day,  in  several  schools 
erected  at  the  public  charge,  through  the  whole 
country  ;  at  which  lectures,  all  ranks  and  sexes, 
without  distinction,  were  obliged  to  be  present 
for  their  general  improvement.  And  what  wick- 
ed wretches  would  they  think  those  men  who 
should  endeavour  to  defeat  the  purpose  of  so  di- 
vine an  institution  \u 

I  was  also  glad  to  find  that  Dick  was  a  great 
encourage r  of  Sunday-schools,  and  also  of  day- 
schools  for  the  poor  who  are  unable  to  pay  for 
their  children*s  schooling.  He  informed  me  that 
some  gentlemen  of  his  neighborhood  were  averse 
to  such  schools,  merely  because  they  wished  not 
to  subscribe  a  trifle  towards  their  support :  and 
yet,  said  he,  those  gentlemen  think  themselves 
christians  ! 

It  perhaps  may  appear  rather  odd,  but  I  re- 
member that,  many  years  since,  Dick,  although  a 
freethinker,  never  liked  to  hear  thoughtless  young 
men  speak  against  religion,  but  would  even  take 
pains  to  convince  them  that  they  were  ignorant  of 
what  they  were  finding  fault  with ;  that  they  were 
enemies  to  religion  because  it  condemned  them 
for  their  irregularities.  He  would  even  tell  them 
that  they  were  only  planting  thorns  in  their  sick 
or  death-beds,  I  even  recollect  that  when  a  youpg 
man  was  once  arguing  against  the  being  of  the 
Deity,  he  lent  him  Knight  on  the  Being  and 


«1 

Attributes  of  God,  and  very  seriously  advised  him 
to  rend  it  with  attention  ;  and  this  too  at  a  time 
when  he  was  Tery  sceptical  himself:  But  I 
strongly  suspect  that  Dick  is  quite  altered  in  his 
principles. 

Formerly,  Dick  used  to  assert  that  all  the  pre* 
cepts  of  morality  contained  in  the  gospel  were 
taught  by  the  heathen  philosophers.  But  now  he 
is  convinced  of  his  mistake,  and  he  has  discovered 
that  their  best  precepts  were  derived  from  divine 
revelation,  partly  through  the  Jews  who  were 
scattered  amongst  all  nations,  and  partly  from  the 
Old  Testament  after  it  was  translated  into  Greek. 
Josephus  has  fully  proved  this  point. 

Formerly,  Dick  thought  that  Socrates  was  a 
more  exalted  personage  than  Christ ;  now  he  as» 
serts,  that  Christ  was  a  far  superior  character  to 
Socrates,  and  that  the  morality  which  he  taught 
is  the  most  pure,  and  best  calculated  to  make 
mankind  happy — that  a  nation  of  real  christians 
would  be  a  heaven  upon  earth. 

Some  years  since,  Dick  would  talk  much  about 
the  charming  liberty  of  thinking  freely,  enjoyed 
by  such  as  shake  off  the  fetters  which  priests  had 
riveted  on  mankind  ;  now  he  does  not  scruple  to 
acknowledge  that,  upon  the  whole,  he  thinks  a 
real  christian  has  greatly  the  advantage,  even  in 
this  life*  of  the  unbeliever.  I  can,  (said  he  to  a 
friend  one  day)  almost  believe  Bishop  Home's 
description  of  the  Christian  religion.  He  then 
took  down  a  volume  of  the  good  Bishop's  ser- 
mons, and  read  the  following  passage  ? 


§2    N 

i  A  religion  cheerful  in  itself,  and  making  those 
1  cheerful  who  are  partakers  of  it ;  cheerful  in 
4  trouble  ;  cheerful  out  of  trouble  ;. cheerful  while 
k  they  live  ;  cheerful  when  they  die  ;  cheerful  in 
4  using  well  the  blessings  of  this  life  ;  cheerful  in 
1  expecting  the  blessings  of  the  next  ;  cheerful 
i  through  pain,  while  they  believe  in  the  great 

*  and  precious  promises  made  to  them  ;  cheerful 
c  through  hope,  which  depends  on  their  accom- 
4  plishment  ;  cheerful  through  charity,  in  doing 

*  acts  of  mercy  and  loving  kindness^till  they  come 

*  to  that  land  of  plenty,  where  none  shall  want  ; 
i  to  those  regions  of  joy  from  whence  sorrowT  shall 
4  be  for  ever  excluded/ 

While  my  friend  Dick  was  reading  the  above 
passage,  he  seemed  animated  ;  he  was  much 
more  so  while  I  read  the  following  lines  from  Dr. 
Young's  Night  Thoughts. 

Religion's  all.     Descending  from  the  skies 

To  wretched  man — 

Religion  ;  Providence  ;  an  after- state  ! 
Here  is  firm  footing  ;  here  is  solid  rock  ; 
This  can  support  us  ;  all  is  sea  besides, 
Sinks  under  us  ;  bestorms  and  then  devours. 
His  hand  the  good  man  fastens  on  the  skies, 
And  bids  earth  roll,  nor  feels  her  idle  whirl. 


Believe,  and  shew  the  reason  of  a  man  ; 
Believe,  and  taste  the  pleasure  of  a  god  ; 
Believe,  and  look  with  pleasure  on  the  tomb. 

Dick  is  rather  shy  in  discovering  what  his  real 
sentiments  now  are  ;  but  from  what  I  have  no- 
ticed I  have  reason  to  think  that  he  is  really  con- 
vinced of  his  errors  ;  and  that  if  he  already  is  not 
a  christian,  he  wishes  to  become  one.     But  when 


♦  83 

a  person  has  once  gone  such  lengths  in  infidelity 
as  Dick  had,  it  is  hard  to  return  to  that  pure,  open 
simplicity  which  the  gospel  requires  of  such  as 
profess  to  believe  its  doctrines.  As  Dick's  con- 
versation is  different  from  what  it  used  to  be,  so 
also  is  his  conduct,  as  I  remarked  in  many  in- 
stances. His  compassion  for  the  labouring  poor 
is  much  increased,  and  he  does  much  good  among 
them  ;  he  not  only  relieves  such  as  apply  to  him, 
but  he  inquires  after  objects  of  distress  ;  and,  at 
the  same  time,  he  is  careful  not  to  encourage 
idleness,  drunkenness,  Sec. 

Mr.  D.  and  Mr.  C.  were  near  neighbours  to 
each  other,  and  acquaintances  of  Dick  ;  these 
Neighbours  had  conceived  great  animosity  to  each 
other  ;  Dick  set  about  reconciling  them.  One 
day,  when  Mr.  D.  was  speaking  very  ill-naturedly 
of  Mr.  C.  Dick  desired  him  not  to  bear  Mr.  C. 
so  much  ill-will,  for,  said  he,  I  have  heard  Mr. 
C  speak  very  well  of  you.  This  softened  Mr. 
D.  a  good  deal.  At  another  time,  Mr.  C.  was 
"very  violent  in  his  conversation  against  Mr.  D. 
Dick  advised  him  to  forget  and  forgive,  as  he 
was  persuaded  Mr.  D.  had  done  ;  lie  speaks 
khidly  of  you,  and  is,  I  believe,  sorry  that  trifles 
should  so  long  have  interrupted  good  neighbour- 
hood between  you  and  him.  By  this  method 
Dick  in  a  short  time  made  them  better  friends 
than  they  had  ever  been  before.  Blessed  is  the 
ficace-maker,  saith  Christ.  Dick  is  still  happy  if 
he  can  reconcile  any  of  his  acquaintance  to  each 
other  ;  but  he  now  will  not  effect  it  by  saying 
what  is  not  strictly  true,  as  he  did  in  the  above 


S4 


instances  ;  he  seems  to  know  that  a  man  siust 
mt  lie  eren  for  God. 

I  am, 
Dear  friend,  Yours. 


LETTER  XIV. 

The  virtues  grow  on  immortality; 

That  Root  destroy'dthey  wither  and  expire. 

A  Deity  belied 'd  will  nought  avail  ; 

Rewards  and  punishments  make  God  ador'd  :  # 

And  hopes  and  fears  give  conscience  all  her  pow'r. 

DEAR  FRIEND, 

'IN  giving  you  my  further  observations  on 
Dick  Thrifty,  I  will  continue  to  set  them  down  as 
nearly  as  I  can,  as  they  occurred. 

I  found  him  one  morning  with  Law's  Serious 
Call  to  a  Holy  Life,  and  Taylor's  Holy  Living 
and  Holy  Dying,  by  his  side  ;  in  his  hand  was 
the  Whole  Duty  of  Man.  What !  a  philosopher 
1  reading  the  "  Whole  Duty  of  Man  V*  Had  you 
been  reading  Puffendorf's  Law  of  Nature,  I 
should  not  have  wondered  at  it.  The  reply  was, 
"  Let  me  tell  you  it  is  worth  any  philosopher's 
reading  ;  from  what  I  have  read  of  it,  I  think  it 
an  excellent  work/'  I  confessed  that  I  had  read 
but  a  small  part  of  it ;  but  from  what  I  had  read 
it  appeared  to  me  to  be  a  very  good  work  ;  I  had 
sold  thousands  of  tjiat  book?  and  scarce  knew  of 


85 

any  work  that  ever  had  so  great  and  lasting  a 
sale-  it  being  a  century  and  a  half  since  it  was 
first  published  :  the  other  works  of  the  same  au- 
thor have  also  had  a  great  sale  :  his  Causes  of  the 
Decay  of  Christian  Piety  should  he  read  more 
than  it  is  :  his  Ladies'  Calling,  and  his  Gentle- 
man's Galling,  are  now  much  neglected,  as  most 
of  our  ladies  and  gentlemen  have  calling*  of  a  ve- 
ry different  nature,  or  rather,  as  it  appears,  have 
no  calling  at  all. 

Taylor's  Holy  Living  and  Dying,  he  said,  was 
also  an  excellent  work.  I  also  joined  in  its  praise. 
Law,  in  his  Serious  Call,  he  thought,  hvfi  some 
of  the  most  convincing  arguments  he  ever  met 
with,  and  his  characters  were  master-pieces  of  the 
kind.  I  said  that  I  had  lately  read  it  Wth  great 
pleasure,  and  I  hoped  with  some  profit." 

But,  Dick,  have  you  discarded  the  old  heathen 
moralists  ? 

"No,  I  believe  I  shall  sometimes  dip  into  them 
as  long  as  I  live  ;  I  think,  with  you,  that  I  have 
derived  much  benefit  from  reading  them." 

I  told  him,  while  I  was  reading  Seneca,  Plu- 
tarch, Epictetus,  fcc.  I  had  often  fancied  myself 
a  great  philosopher,  and  conceited  that  my  passi- 
ons were  subdued. 

"  Why  that  is  just  my  case,  and  perhapsan  hour 
after  I  have  indulged  those  fine  ideas,  I  suffer  an 
old  woman,  or  a  servant  to  disturb,  or  even 
destroy  my  fine  philosophical  tranquility ;  and 
then  I  am  ashamed  to  find  myself  such  a  poor 
weak  mortal." 

"  Virtue  is  kept  alive  by  oare  and  toil." 
H 


36 

Dick  continued,  "  I  now  have  often  recourse  to, 
divines  ;  they  write  like  men  having  authority, 
and  they  adduce  stronger  motives  for  us  to  subdue 
or  regulate  our  passions  and  tempers  ;  and  I  think 
they  have  much  more  influence  on  my  conduct 
than  the  mere  reasoning  of  the  ancient  philoso- 
phers. You  know  that  formerly  I  read  pretty 
much  divinity,  and  although  the  intimacy  was 
long  broken  off,  by  my  having  contracted  an  aver- 
sion to  those  pious  writers, because  they  threaten-? 
ed  freethinkers  with  hell ;  yet  we  are  become 
good  friends  again  :  so  that  whenever  I  look  into 
any  of  those  books,  it  seems  like  calling  on  an  old 
sensible  acquaintance  that  I  had  not  seen  for  ma- 
ny years  ;  I  am  much  pleased  while  conversing 
on  old  subjects  ;  and,  though  I.  might  not  approve 
of  every  thing  he  says,  yet  the  conversation  upon 
the  whole  maybe  pleasing  and  improving." 

Dick,  said  I,  you  used  to  be  open  and  above  dis- 
guise ;  I  have  freely  confessed  to  you,  that  I  have 
sincerely  repented  of  my  long  apestacy  from,  the 
truth,  and  humbly  hope  for  pardon  and  'salvation 
through  that  Saviour  whom  you  and  I  despised  : 
tell  me,  are  not  you  also  convinced  of  your  error? 
Are  you  not  in  heart  a  christian  ? 

<c  An  honest  Deist,  where  the  gospel  shines*- 
"  Matur'd  to  nobler  in  the  christian  ends." 


"  I  confess,"  he  replied,  "  that  my  sentiment, 
are  much  altered,  as  you  must  have  perceived. 
You  and  I  have  often  read  the  same  books,  and 
made  the  same  observations  en  men  afld  things  ; 


so  that  you  will  not  be  much  surprised  if  I  have 
been  affected  pretty  much  like  yourself*  by  re- 
marking the  same  events.  I  shall  carry  my  re- 
marks further  back  than  you  have  done.  You 
Know  that  before  the  French  revolution  took  place 
I  had  some  young  men  and  boys  in  my  house  as 
apprentices  and  shopmen.  I  have  reason  to  think 
that  those  young  people  were  not  ignorant  of  my 
sentiments  ;  for  as  they  dined  with  me  and  my 
friends,  they  must  have,  at  times,  heard  free  con- 
versations, jokes  on  priests,  ficc.  if  not  worse  : 
for  although  I  was  not  fond  of  propagating  infi- 
delity, yet  from  my  friends,  and  perhaps  from 
myself  also,  they  must  know  that  I  paid  no  atten- 
tion to  religion.  It  is  also  likely  that  they  read 
my  free-thinking  books.  They  also  knew  that  I 
did  not  attend  at  any  place  irf  worship,  nor  did  I  re- 
quire them  to  do  it ;  that  my  Whole  family  spent 
Sundays  in  idle  amusements.  Those  young  men 
left  me,  and  begart  the  world  without  any  sense 
of  religion.  Several  of  them,  I  believe",  were 
free-thinkers  ;  nearly  the  whole  of  them  dissipa- 
ted the  whole  of  what  property  they  had  of  their 
own,  got  into  debt,  and  became  bankrupts.  But 
though  I  saw  the  effects  of  infidelity  in  'them,  I 
was  not  properly  affected  by  it.  But  since  the 
French  revolution,  when  I  perceived  the  sad  ef- 
fects produced  by  the  spreading  of  infidelity  I  be- 
gan to  think  more  seriously  on  the  consequen- 
ces ;  but  I  was  not  fully  acquainted  with  the  ex- 
tent of  its  mischief,  until  I  came  into  the  country 
to  live,  and  found  that  it  had  infected  all  ranks, 
from  the  castle  to  the  cottage. 

"  A  "nsw  world  rises  and  new  mariners  reign." 


83 

"  Gentlemen's  servants,  having  been  taught  in- 
fidelity  in  London,  and  while  waiting  at  table,  have 
spread  the  contagion  throughout  the  region  of 
their  acquaintance.  Paine's  Age  of  Reason  has 
been  handed  from  cottage  to  cottage.  The  honest 
and  industrious  part  of  the  poor,  amidst  their 
porerty  and  afflictions,  used  to  derive  great  con- 
solation from  the  hopes  of  a  better  world  to 
come  ;  but  Paine  and  Co.  have  cjepiived  them  of 
their  only  comfort  and  support,  and  left  them 
discontented  with  their  station,  and  ready  for  mis- 
chief. Many  that  used  to  be  constant  at  chinch 
on  Sundays,  now  go  to  the  ale-house,  where  they 
encourage  one  another  in  irreiigion  and  vice.—* 
Many  that  used  to  read  their  bibles  in  order  to 
become  Letter  husbands,  better  fathers,  better 
subjects,  better  neighbours,  he.  now,  if  they  look 
into  it  at  all,  it  is  only  to  endeavour  to  turn  it  into 
ridicule. 

"  The  hope  of  heaven,  and  the  fear  of  hell,  I 
now7  am  fully  convinced  certainly  had  very  ^reat 
influence  on  the  conduct  of  thousands,  who  now 
laugh  at  any  talk  of  the  day  of  judgment,  heaven 
and  hell  ;  and  having  got  rid  of  those  restraints* 
they  indulge  themselves  in  one  vice  after  another, 
until  no  wickedness  is  too  bad  for  them  to  com- 
mit." 

In  proof  of  what  you  assert,  (I  replied)  permit 
me  to  inform  you,  that  about  two  years  since  I 
made  an  excursion  into  the  West  of  England  ; 
happening  to  spend  a  tew  hours  in  a  large  town 
through  which  I  passed,  I  called  on  a  very  re- 
spectable tradesman,  an  old  acquaintance  of  mine. 
While   we  were  conversing  in  his  shop  on  the 


89 

it  prevalence  of  infidelity  and  it*  immoral  ten- 
dency, one  of  his  neighbours,  a  very  decent  look- 
ing man  eame  in,  who,  I  learnt  in  the  course  of 
conversation,  had  lately  been  a  very  wicked  infidel 
and  a  rebel,  but  had  repented  of  Ids  infidelity,  and 
was  become  a  loyal  subject  and  a  pious  christian. 

He  informed  us,  that  while  he  lived  in  London, 
(•which  was  about  four  or  five  years  before  this 
conversation)  he  worked  in  a  shop  with- twelve 
other  men,  eleven  of  whom  and  himself  were  in- 
fidels, and  that  the  whole  of  them  were  rebels.  To 
such  a  height  of  wickedness  and  infatuation  had 
these  poor  wretches  arrived,  that  six  of  them  set 
out  one  day  with  a  fixed  determination  to  kill— 
a  certain  person.  In  the  Strand,  one  of  the  most 
desperate  of  these  execrable  villains  was  taken  so 
very  ill  as  to  be  able  to  go  no  further ;  but  this  did 
not  deter  the  others,  but  on  they  went  to  perpe- 
trate the  dreadful  deed,  which  they  would  have 
effected,  had  not  an  uncommon  circumstance  ta- 
ken place  which  prevented  the  horrid  crime  from 
being  committed.  This  circumstance  I  cannot 
relate,  as  the  mentioning  it  would  discover  the 
person  they  intended  to  murder. 

I  also  observed,  that  the  doctrine  of  rev/aids  and 
punishments  were  taught  in  a  confused  and  im- 
perfect manner  by  the  old  heathens  ,  that  the  be* 
lief  of  those  doctrines,  and  the  fear  of  the  aveng- 
ing gods,  had  very  great  influence  on  the  moral 
conduct  of  mankind  in  general:  and  it  is  worth 
remarking  that  Juvenal,  in  his  second  satire,  im- 
putes the  shocking  and  detestable  crimes  which 
disgraced  Rome  in  his  days  to  the  infidel  notions 
that  then  prevailed  among  them. 
H.2 


**.  Though  the  system  of  Paganism  is  just«y 
condemned  by  reason  and  scripture,  yet  it  assu- 
med, as  true,  several  principles  of  the  first  im- 
portance to  the  preservation  of  public  manners  ; 
such  as  a  persuasion  of  invisible  power,  of  the  fol- 
ly of  incurring  the  divine  vengeance  for  the  attain- 
ment of  any  present  advantage  ;  and  the  divine 
approbation  of  virtue  :  so  that,  strictly  speaking, 
it  was  the  mixture  of  truth  in  it  which  gave  it  all 
its  utility  ;  which  is  well  stated  by  the  great  and 
judicious  Hooker,  in  treating  on  this  subject. 
1  Seeing  therefore  it  doth  thus  appear,'  says  that 
venerable  author,  '  that  the  safety  of  all  states  de- 
pendeth  upon  religion  ;  that  religion  unfeigned- 
ly  loved  perfecteth  man's  abilities  unto  all  kinds  of 
various  services  in  the  commonwealth  ;  that 
man's  desire  is,  in  general,  to  hold  no  religion 
but  the  true  ;  and  whatever  good  effects  do  grow 
out  of  their  religion,  who  embrace,  instead  of  the 
feme,  a  false,  the  roots  thereof  are  certain  parts 
of  the  light  of  truth,  intermingled  with  the  dark- 
ness of  error ;  because  no  religion  but  one  can 
wholly  and  only  consist  of  truths,  we  have  reason 
to  think  that  all  true  virtues  are  to  honor  true  re* 
tigion  as  their  parent,  and  all  well-ordered  com- 
monweals love  her  as  their  chiefest  stay,"— Ec- 
cles.  vol.xiii.  5. 

That  arch  infidel  Voltaire,  who  has  been  one  of 
the  greatest  enemies  to  the  cause  of  religion,  in 
his  Philosopher's  Dictionary,  under  the  word 
atheism,  says,  "  But  with  submission  to  Plu- 
tarch, nothing  can  be  more  evident,  than  that  it 
was  better  for  the  Greeks  to  stand  in  awe  of  Ceres, 
Neptune,  and  Jupiter?  than  to  be  under  no  manner 


of  awe  ;  the  sacredness  of  oaths  is  manifest  and 
necessary ;  and  they  that  hold  that  perjury  will 
be  punished,  are  certainly  more  to  be  trusted  than 
those  who  think  a  false  oath  will  be  attended  with 
no  ill  consequences.  It  is  beyond  all  question, 
that  in  a  policed  city,  even  a  bad  religion  is  better 
than  none/ — The  Senataof  Rome,  which  almost 
totally  consisted  of  Atheists,  both  in  theory  and 
practice,  believing  neither  in  providence  nor  a 
future  state.  It  was  a  meeting  of  philosophers, 
of  votaries  of  pleasure  and  ambition  ;  all  very  dan- 
gerous sets  of  men,  and  who,  accordingly,  over- 
turned the  republic. " 

4 1  would  not  willingly  lie  at  the  mercy  of  a» 
atheistical  pvince,  who  might  think  it  his  interest 
to  have  mc  pounded  in  a  mortar  :  I  am  certain  it 
would  be  my  fate.  And  were  I  a  sovereign,  I 
would  not  have  about  me  any  atheistical  courtiers, 
whose  interest  it  might  be  to  poison  me,  as  then  I 
must  every  clay  be  taking  alexipharmics  ;  so  ne- 
cessary is  it  both  for  princes  and  people,  that  their 
minds  be  thoroughly  imbued  with  an  idea  of  a 
Supreme  Being,  the  Creator,  Avenger,  and  Re- 
warder. " 

This  subject  is  now  no  longer  to  be  disputed  at 
all,  as  we  have  seen  such  dreadful  effects  of  infi- 
delity since  it  has  been  propagated  among  the 
people  at  large. 

"  I  confess,  (said  Dick)  that  I  was  long  in  an 
error  on  this  head.  I,  like  many  other  freethink- 
ers, on  observing  that  fraud  and  other  vices  were 
committed  by  such  as  passed  for  Christians ;  and 
that  among  those  who  were  sceptics,  I  knew  sev- 


92 

eral  whom  I  thought  honest  men,  I  too  re^ 
concluded,  that  the  belief  or  disbelief  of  a  future 
state  had  but  little  or  no  influence  on  society,  nor 
should  I  ever  have  been  convinced  of  my  errors 
but  for  the  manners  of  the  times.  The  vile  prac- 
tices of  some  who  call  themselves  christians  may 
edsiiy  be  accounted  for  ;  a  great  number  of  those 
have  scarce  any  more  religion  than  horses  ;  they 
live  and  die  as  ignorant  and  stupid  with  regard  to 
divine  subjects  as  hogs.  So  that  in  fact  they  can- 
not be  said  to  believe  of  disbelieve  in  Christianity, 
although  they  are  denominated  christians.  I  have 
reason  to  believe  that  there  are  thousands  in  Eng- 
land who  never  were  in  any  place  of  divine  wor- 
ship in  the  whole  course  of  their  lives  ;  and  many 
of  those  that  do  by  chance  go  into  a  church,  know 
no  more  of  the  matter  than  such  do  as  never  go 
at  all.  And  there  is  great  reason  to  think  that 
many  who  pass  for  Christians  are  atheists  in  prin- 
ciples, as  well  as  practical  knaves.  A  certain 
author. says,  aI  know  there  are  in  notion  and 
principle,  as  well  as  in  practice,  who  think  ail 
honesty  as  well-as  religion,  a  mere  cheat ;  and  by 
a  very  consistent  conduct,  reasoning,  have  re- 
solved deliberately  to  do  whatsoever  by  power  or 
art  they  are  able  for  their  private  advantage.  Such 
as  these  never  open  themselves  in  friendship  to 
others.  They  have  no  such  passion  for  truth  or 
love  of  mankind.  They  have  no  quarrel  with 
religion  or  morals  ;  they  know  what  use  to  make 
of  them  both  upon  occasion.  If  ever  they  dis- 
cover their  principles  it  is  only  at  unawares,  they 
are  sure  to  preach  up  honesty*  and  go  to  church."' 


SL3 

"  I  was  lately  told  of  a  grocer,  who,  on  a  Sun- 
day evening  used  to  call  his  shopman,  and  ad- 
dress hi  in  in  the  following  manner :  "  John,  have 
you  put  the  dried  berries  with  the  currants  ." 
u  Yes,  Sir."  "  Have  you  put  the  ash  leaves  with 
the  tea  V*  "  Yes,  Sir."  "  Have  you  put  the  sand 
with  the  moist  sugar?"  u  Yes,  Sir,"  "Then, 
John,  come  to  prayer*'? 

I  will  also  give  you  one  instance  of  this  kind 
that  fell  within  my  own  observation.  About  twelve 
months  alter  1  first  became  acquainted  with  a  par- 
ty of  infidels,  there  was  one  very  young  man  in- 
troduced who  was  an  advocate  for  atheism,  and 
yet  he  was  a  student,  on  charity,  in  a  dissenting 
academy ;  and  used  to  boast  of  the  deceptions 
which  he  made  use  of  to  deceive  the  heads  of  the 
seminary.  He  informed  us,  that  at  the  stated 
time  of  prayer,  when  they  all  kneeled  down 
round  the  room,  with  their  faces  towards  the 
wall,  he  used  to  conceal  a  card  in  his  hand,  on 
which  he  had  a  composed  form  set  down  in  short- 
hand. So  that  when  it  came  to  his  turn  to  pray 
extemporally,  he  read  his  card  :  and  he  was 
thought  to  possess  a  fine  gift  in  prayer.  This 
young  infidel  also  boasted  of  the  deceptions  which 
he  put  on  others  ;  he  would  pretend  to  piety 
amoog  religious  people,  ard  borrow  books  and 
sell  them.  Not  long  after  this  he  deceived  and 
tcok  in  his  infidel  friend,  who  introduced  him  to 
the  party.  He  was  for  some  reason  or  other  at 
last  discharged  from  the  academy;  had  that 
not  been  the  case,  some  congregation  might  have 
been  deceived  by  his  abilities  and  pretensions  to 
pisty,  and  have  had  an  atheist  for  their  pastor* 


I  have  no  doubt  but  this  class  of  unbelievc 
mu en  larger  than  is  imagined*     Know  ye  not;  say 
Paul  to  the  Corinthians,  that  the  unrighteous  shat 
not   inherit  the  kingdom  of  God ;  be  not  deceivec 
neither  fornicators,  nor  adulterers,  nor  drunkards 
nor  thieves,  nor  covetous,  ndr  revikrs,  nor  extor 
doners,  shall  inherit  the  kingdom.     And   yet  hov 
many  are  there  to  be  found  who  deliberately  com 
init  those  sins.     How  is  it  possible  for  one  to  sup 
pose  that  such  can  believe  the  above  text,  and  at 
hundred  others  of  the  same  import.     We  know 
that  a  person  may  be  precipitated  into  grievou-i 
sins,  and  yet  may  be  called  a  believer,  although  i 
weak  one  ;  but  is  it  possible  for  a  person  to  live 
year  after  year,  in  the  deliberate  commission  ol 
any  great  known  sin,  and  really  believe  that  Qoa 
ha*  a/i/iointed a  day  in  which  he  will  judge  the  world 
in  righteoTesness,  and  reward  every  man  according 
to  the  deeds  done  in  the  bbdy^  whether  they  have  been 
good  or  bad.     Indeed  the   scriptures  rank   such 
among  unbelievers  :  and  freethinkers  should  not 
rank  them  as  belie  vers*  but  among  their  own  class. 
In  Gilpin's  48th  sermon,  vol.  2.  is  the  following 
passage:  "I   address  myself  next  to  those  who 
pretend  to  believe  the  gospel,  and  yet  neglect  its 
precepts. 

"  There  are  many  such  christians  in  the  world 
•^Christians,  who  go  generally  to  church — who 
appear  occasionally  at  the  sacrament— and  who 
talk  of  the  bible  as  the  best'book  in  the  world  ;  but 
yet,  in  fact,  lead  their  lives  as  much  at  variance 
with  it,  as  if  it  had  never  been  intended  as  a  rule 
of  conduct.     They  are  as  much  given  up  to  the 


95 

business  and  pleasures,  and  vanities  of  life,  as 
much  led  away  by  the  fashions  and  dissipated 
manners  which  they  see  around  them,  as  if  they 
believed  this  world  was  the  only  place  where  they 
expected  happiness.  And  yet  they  profess  to  be- 
lieve in  a  religion  that  will  reward  all  who  obey  it  5 
and  punish  all  who  disobey  it. 

u  If  you  really  believe  all  this,  the  pleasures  of 
this  wrorld  will  appear  of  little  value  to  you,  com* 
pared  with  the  happiness  of  the  next  5  and  the 
severest  restraints  of  religion,  instead  pi  being 
thought  hardships,  will  be  received  with  cheerful- 
ness. Is  this  the  case  ?  If  you  are  a  true  be- 
liever, the  answer  is  plain  ;  yet  this  comraciictioa 
between  your  belief  and  your  practice,  makes  it, 
I  fear,  too  plain,  thv\  is  not  the  case.  The  matter 
then  resolves  itself  into  this,  that  you  are  in  the 
situation  with  the  infidel,  only  to  his  disbelief  you 
add  hypocrisy. 

"  If  you  are  under  the  influence  of  self-deceit, 
and  imagine  you  are  more  sincere  in  your  belief 
of  these  things  than  you  really  are,  put  your  sin- 
cerity to  the  test ;  try  yourself  by  an  easy  exper- 
iment. You  are  assured,  that  if  you  take  proper 
steps,  you  may  get  possession  of  a  considerable 
fortune.  If  you  really  believe  this  information, 
how  will  you  act  ?  Will  you  not  take  every  meth- 
od in  your  power  that  leads  to  the  possession  of 
it  1  Our  blessed  Saviour  has  placed  this  matter 
in  the  same  light.  If  a  man  believed  there  was 
a  treasure  in  a  field,  would  he  not  sell  all  he  luid 
^nd  buy  the  field  ?  In  the  affairs  of  this  work],  you 
judge  of  a  man's  being  sine«#e  in  his  baHef,  by 


96 

the  sincerity  of  his  practice.  If  he  he  under  the 
influence  of  faith  in  common  life,  he  never  fails  toi 
shew  his  faith  by  its  influence  on  his  actions. 

It  is  exactly  the  same  in  religion.  You  pretend 
to  believe  that  you  shall  give  an  account  hereafter 
of  your  actions— that  there  is  a  heaven  to  reward, 
and  a  hell  to  punish  them,  as  they  are  good  or 
bad.  You  say  you  believe  all  this  :  but  still  it  does 
not  produce  a  christian  life.  Away  with  such 
hypocritical  pretences.  Would  any  man  leap 
from  a  precipice  if  he  really  believed  a  bottomless 
pit  would  receive  him  ?  Those  who  pretend  to  no  I 
faith,  and  those  who  pretend  to  faith,  but  leave  a  : 
holy  life  out  of  the  question,  are  both  infidels 
alike." 

Some  of  those  ungodly  pretenders  to  Christian- 
ity are  so  very  ignorant  of  its  doctrines,  as  to  think 
that  because  Christ  died  for  sinners  (which  is  the 
only  part  of  the  gospel  they  ever  attended  to) 
God  'will,  however  wicked  their  lives  may  have 
been,  pardon  them,  provided  they  do  but  repent, 
as  they  call  it,  on  their  death-bed.  Old  Baxter 
tells  us  of  a  shocking  wicked  man  whopersisted  in 
a  very  profligate  way  of  life,  because  he  was  sure 
that  if  he  could  but  say  three  words,  "God  pardon 
me,"  before  he  died,  he  was  sure  to  be  forgiven. 
It  seems  he  even  forgot  those  three  words,  for 
his  horse  leaping  over  a  bridge  with  him,  he  said, 
"  Devil  take  all."  I  have  conversed  with  ma- 
ny who  have  much  the  same  notion  ;  they  do 
not  know  that  repentance  is  a  change  of  heart  and 
life,  but  think  it  consists  in  a  few  expressions  of 
sgrrow,    and   calling  God  to  pardon  them  for 


I 

97 

Christ's  sake.  '  Gilpin,  in  Iris  excellent  sermon  on 
Christ's  promise  to  the  thief  on  the  cross,  says, 
11  I  have  seldom  seen  sickness  draw  on  a  change 
of  life.  The  sinner  has  generally  returned,  after 
his  recovery,  to  his  old  habits.  AH  therefore  that 
a  minister  of  the  gospel  can  say,  is  only  this,  that 
Godhati  no  where  promised  in  the  covenant  ofgracey 
forgiveness  to  any  repentance,  but  what  is  followed 
by  a  holy  life  ;  and  if  wen  are  saved,  after  a  course 
of  wickedness,  on  death-bed  repentance,  they  are 
not  saved  according  to  any  know.)  conditions  of  the 
Gospel.  Gilpin's  Sermons,  vol.  ii.  p.  122,  2<k 
edition.    .  i 


-Fatally  he  err= 


Whose  hope  fore-runs  repentance,  and  who  presumes 

That  God  will  pardon  when  he's  tir'd  of  sin, 

And  like  a  stale  companion  casts  it  off. 

Oh  !  arrogant,  delusive,  impious  thought, 

To  meditate  commodious  truce  with  heaven, 

When  death's  swift  arrow  smites  him  unprepar'd, 

And  that  protracted  moment  never  comes, 

Or  comes  too  late  :  Turn  then,  presumptuous  manr 

Turn  to  the  sinner, 

Who  died  X'eviling',  there  behold  thy  doom. 

Cumberland's  calvary. 


I  have  also  met  with  many  who  keep  a  shorter 
account  with  God  ;  they  mistake  the  means  for 
the  end.  When  they  can  find  time  to  goto  church, 
it  is  not  with  any  view  to  obtain  grace  and  strength 
to  enable  them  to  forsake  their  bad  practices; 
they  have  not  the  least  inclination  to  alter  their 
wicked  course  of  life  ;  but  think  that  by  goin;*  to 
church  and  begging  pardon,  their  old  score  is 
I 


93 

wiped  off;  if  to  going  to  church,  they  add  the 
reading  a  chapter  or  two  in  the  bible,  on  Sunday, 
they  rest  quite  satisfied,  and  suppose  their  ac- 
counts fully  balanced. 

To  reckon  any  of  these  people  among  the  be- 
lievers of  the  gospel  of  Christ*  is  an  abuse  of 
"words.  But  it  is  timo  to  conclude  this  long  epb^ 
tie. 

Iain, 

Dear  Friend, 

Youi's. 


LETTER  XV. 

*  Consider  man  as  mortal,  all  is  dark, 
"  And  wretched ;  JZeason  weeps  at  the  survey.5' 

DEAR    FRIEND, 

WHILE  Dick  and  I  were  conversing  after 
dinner  on  the  important  objects  mentioned  in  the 
last  chapter,  we  were  astonished  at  the  declara- 
tion of  a  lady  in  company,  who  seriously  and  de- 
liberately assured  us,  that  she  had  often  wished 
her  soul  was  mortal,  that  it  might  die  with  the 
body ;  that  the  idea  of  annihilation  was  so  far  from 
being  frightful  to  her,  that  it  would  afford  her 
very  great  satisfaction,  if  she  could  but  be  sure 
that  when  she  had  paid  the  debt  of  nature,  she 
should  no  longer  have  any  kind  of  conscious  ex- 
istence, as  she  thought  it  was  now 


99 


-"  A  serious  thing  to  die  !  My  soul ! 


"  What  a  strange  moment  must  it  be,  when  near 
*'  Thy  journey's  end  thou  hast  the  gulf  in  view  ! 
u  That  awful  gulf  no  mortal  e'er  repass'd 
"  To  tell  what's  doing  on  the  other  side  1" 

But  if  she  was  but  sure  of  being  annihilated,  it 
would  take  a  weight  off  her  spirits  that  sometimes 
oppressed  her  much. 

I  dm  well  informed  that  this  lady  is  very  amia- 
ble. She  is  about  forty.  During  thirty  years 
which  she  lived  with  her  father,  she  was  a  very 
dutiful  daughter  ;  the  ten  that  she  has  been  a 
wife,  she  ever  has  been,  and  still  is, 

"  Blest  with  temper,  whose  unclouded  ray 
"Can  make  to-morrow,  cheerful  as  to-day  j 
*f  3^ie  never  answers  till  her  husband  cools, 
"  And  if  she  rules  him,  never  shews  she  rules. 
u  Charms  by  accepting,  by  submitting  sways, 
#  Yet  has  her  humour  most  when  she  obeys.* 

Her  life  has  been  a  life  of  innocence ;  the  con- 
tinued ill-treatment  which  she  for  years  received 
from  some  of  her  relations,  could  never  put  her 
out  of  temper,  or  cause  her  to  utter  an  ill-natured 
word  ;  or  to  be  guilty  of  an  unkind  action.  She 
possesses  an  uncommonly  sympathising,  feeling 
heart,  is  very  kind  and  charitable  to  the  poor. 

That  so  charming  and  virtuous  a  lady  as  this 
should  wish  that  existence  might  terminate  with 
this  short  life,  is,  I  believe,  not  a  common  cir- 
cumstance. On  our  expressing  our  surprise,  and 
requesting  to  be  made  acquainted  with  her  rea- 
sons for  so  unnatural  a  wish;  she  said*  that  "  sh« 


I  Of 

was  not  satisfied  with  herself,  she  thought  her 
disposition  was  not  so  piously  disposed  as  she 
found  the  Almighty  required  ;  she  had  no  desire 
to  go  to  church,  and  when  she  was  there  she  was 
not  as  devout  as  she  should  be.  She  seldom 
prayed  much  in  private.  She  did  not  know  that 
she  had  ever  said  or  done  any  thing  wrong.  But 
then  she  was  ignorant  of  divine  things,  and  felt  an 
indifference  towards  them  ;  and  having  doubt?  on 
her  mind,  rajher  than  run  the  hazard  of  being 
eternally  miserable,  she  had  many  times  wished 
to  be  annihilated."  She  said,  these  melancholy 
thoughts  were  not  lasting,  she  was  in  general 
happy.  Mrs.  Kowe  thus  describes  a  state  of 
mind  nearly  similar. 

-—Starts  at  the  awful  prospect  of  the  deep, 
St  hi  fears  to  explore  the  dark  and  unknown  way, 
Still  backward  shrinks  and  meditates  delay  ; 
Spins  out  the  time,  and  lingers  in  debate, 
Displeas'd  to  try  an  unexperiene'd  state. 

If  the  righteous  are  scarcly  saved,  where  shall  the 
sinner  and  the  ungodly  a/ifiedr  ?  And  if  so  virtuous  a 
woman  has  very  uneasy  thoughts,  as  to  her  accept- 
ance with  God,  what  must,  or  rather,  what  ought 
the  generality  of  our  fashionable  ladies  to  feel. 

Dick  took   up  his  favorite    book   the   Night 
Thoughts,  and  read  to  her  the  following  lines; 

O  thou  great  Arbiter  of  life  and  death  ! 
Nature's  immortal  immaterial  sun  ! 
Whose  all  prolific  beam  late  call  d  me  forth 
From  darkness,  teeming  darkness,  where  I  lay, 
The  worm's  inferior,  and,  in  rank,  beneath 


101 

The  dust  I  tread  on,  high  to  bear  my  brow, 
To  drink  the  spirit  of  the  golden  Day, 
And  triumph  in  existence  ;  and  couldst  know 
No  motive,  but  my  bliss  !  and  hast  ordain'd 
A  rise  in  blessing-!  with  the  Patriarch's  joy, 
Thy  call  I   follow  to  the  land  unknown  ; 
I  trust  in  thee,  and  know  in  whom  I  trust  ; 
Or  life,  or  death,  is  equal  ;  neither  weighs  ; 
All  weighs  in  this— O  let  me  live  to  thee. 

"This,  Madam,  (continued  Dick)  is  the  only  dis- 
position that  can  possibly  make  us  happy :  the 
good  Doctor  appears  to  have  had  that  faith  and 
trust  in  (Sod,  which  every  real  christian  should 
have.     In  another  plare,  he  says, 

If  sick  of  folly,  I  relent  ;  Christ  writes 
My  name  in  heaven,  with  that  inverted  spear 
(A  spear  deep  dipt  in  blood)  which  pierc'd  his  side,, 
Andopen'd  there  a  font  for  all  mankind 
0     Who  strive  to  combat  crimes,  to  drink  and  live  ; 
Thh,  only  this,  subdues  the  Fear  of  Heath. 

The  parents  of  this  lady  I  find  are  called  good 
kind  of  people  ;  when  they  have  no  company  at 
home,  they  go  to  church  once  of  a  Sunday  ;  arc 
kind,  obliging  neighbours,  good  to  the  poor,  &c. 
But  it  does  not  appear  that  xhey  consider  them- 
selves possessed  of  an  immortal  part,  which  must 
be  happy  or  miserable  to  all  eternity 

They  have,  it  seems,  a  Bible  in  their  house, 
carefully  locked  up.  For  the  first  ten  years  after 
they  were  married,  this  bible  was  brought  down 
stairs  once  in  a  year^  or  once  in  two  years  at  far- 
thest, to  insert  in  the  blank  leaf  the  names  of 
their  children,  together  with  t^e  year,  day,  aftd 
13 


102 

hour  of  the  clay,  in  which  each  of  the  little  strang- 
ers made  its  first  appearance.  After  the  children 
were  grown  old  enough  to  dispute  about  their  age, 
the  bibie  was  several  times  produced  to  settle  these 
disputes  ;  but  after  some  of  the  girls  had  reached 
their  twenty -fourth  year  without  being  married, 
the  bible  was  taken  more  care  of  than  ever;  as 
the  eldest  daughters  were  always  ready  to  settle 
the  ages  of  the  younger  part  of  the  family,  to 
save  them  the  trouble  of  looking  into  the  said 
blank  leaf. 

Although  one  cannot  help  remarking  with  con- 
cern, that  seme  of  those  who  are  acquainted  with 
the  theory  of  religion,  and  who,  to  shew  their 
knowledge,  or  for  worse  purposes,  introduce  it 
unseasonably,  are  yet  known  to  be  more  relax  in 
the  performance  of  the  duties  it  enjoins,  than 
some  that  say  little,  and  know  less  ;  yet,  surely, 
those  who  in  the  higher  walks  of  life  totally  neg-  % 
iect  that  important  subject,  and  bring  up  their  chil- 
dren in  gross  ignorance  of  religion,  must  certainly 
be  blameable  in  a  very  high  degree.  My  people 
(srath  God)  perish  for  want  of  knowledge.  Il  is 
really  astonishing  that  mankind  should  employ  so 
much  of  their  time  in  acquiring  the  knowledge 
of  tie  most  trifling  things  ;  and,  yet  contentedly, 
remain  in  ignorance  of  the  christian  religion, 
w:  ich  tends  so  much  to  enlarge  the  powers  of  the 
human  mind  ;  and  is  the  only  basis  of  happiness 
here,  and  hereafter, 

I  re  member  reading,  thirty  years  since,  in  old 
Pemble's  Treatise  of  Grace,  in  folio,  an  account 
of  an  old  ma*,  wUo.  on  his  death-bed,  was  asked 
by  the  minister,  What  he  thought  God  was  i  He 


103  * 

replied,  M  A  fine  old  man."  What  do  you  think 
Jesus  Christ  is  ?  "  A  hopeful  youth,"  was  the  re- 
ply. What  do  you  think  your  soul  is  ?  "  A  great 
bone  in  my  back,"  was  the  answer. 

I  am  sorry  to  say,  that  this  excellent  lady's 
knowledge  in  divine  subjectsbut  little  exceeds  that 
of  Pemble's  poor  old  man  ;  but  in  sincerity  and 
openness  of  heart,  I  never  saw  one  that  exceeded 
her. 

I  am,  dear  friend, 

YourV, 


LETTER  XVI. 

The  mind  is  its  own  place,  and  in  itself 

Can  make  a  Hell  of  Heaven, — paradise  lost, 

DEAR   FRIEND, 

IN  October  1798,  S.  P.  Peach,- Esq.  being 
Major  of  the  Tockington  Volunteers,  gave  an  en- 
tertainment to  his  corps,  and  others  of  his  neigh- 
bours, in  honour  of  Lord  Ne!son*s  glorious  vic- 
tory. This  was  done  on  the  lawn  before  his 
house.  The  good  cheer,  the  company,  music, 
songs,  bonfire,  fire-works,  Sec.  Jaad  a  wonderful 
effect  on  the  poor  countrymen  ;  one  of  them,  in 
raptures,  exclaimed,  (by  my  side) "  This  is  heaven 
upon  earth  !"  Upon  which  another  of  our  volun- 
teers very  sincerely  and  earnestly  declared,  that 
u  he  did  not  think  that  heaven  was  half  so  fine  a 
plate."  Tins  had  not  the  least  appearance  of  le*« 
vit;j;  but  was  an  honsst  effusion  of  the  heartv 


104 

I  will  give  you  another  anecdote  of  a  similar 
kind. 

A  neighbouring  clergyman  was  sent  for  to  pray 
with  a  farmer's  wife,  on  the  Marsh-Common, 
about  five  miles  from  my  house.  He,  in  order  to 
reconcile  her  to  her  dying  situation,  and  to  send 
her  quietly  away,  held  forth  on  the  happiness 
which  all  good  people  enjoy  after  death  at  the 
right  hand  of  God  ;  during  which  she  shewed 
signs  of  impatience.  The  divine  still  kept  on,  and 
enlarged  on  the  glory,  splendour,  &c.  of  heaven, 
until  her  patience  being  quite  tired  out,  she  ex- 
claimed, "  Don't  tell  me  a  long  tale  about  the  glo- 
ry of  Heaven  ;  Old  England,  and  the  Marsh-Com- 
rnon  for  me." 

Were  it  only  a  few  poor  ploughmen^  and  a 
jMarsh-Common  farmer's  wife,  that  had  such  low 
thoughts  of  the  happiness  of  a  future  state,  one 
jSfcould  not  be  so  much  surprised;  but  is  there  not 
"reason  to  think  that  there  are  thousands  who  have 
rio  better  opinion  of  heavenly  pleasure  than 
these  poor  untaught  creatures  that  have- acquired 
but  few  ideas  above  the  hogs  they  feed,  or  the 
beasts  they  drive  The  lady  that  was  introduced  to 
you  in  my  last  letter  freely  confessed  herself  to  be 
of  that  number.  She  informed  us,  that  except  now 
and  then,  when  the  thought  of  death,  and  the 


*T-.~"  Anxious  casting  up  of  what  might  he, 
"  Alarm'd  her  peaceful  bosom," 

and  made  her  gloomy,  she  had  always  been  happy 
through  life  j  that  she  would  rather  live  here  for 


105 

ever  than  go  to  heaven  ;  that  she  had  not  conceiv- 
ed very  favourable  ideas  of  the  happihesss  there  to 
be  enjoyed  ;  and  as  she  had  no  knowledge  .of,  or 
relish  for  divine  things,  she  did  not  see  how  she 
could  comfortably  spend  an  eternity  in  a  place 
where  nothing  eise  was  going  forward.  1  fear  this 
lady  has,  in  giving  us  her  own  thoughts?  given  us 
the  thoughts  of  thousands  ;  and  I  think  she  rea- 
soned well.  There  cannot  be  the  least  doubt  that 
the  reason  why  many  wish  to  go  to  heaven,  is  not 
from  any  love  they  have  for  God  or  heaven  ;  but 
as  they  know  that  there  are  but  two  places,  they 
wish  to  go  there*  to  avoid  hell.  How  many  are  there 
that  think  the  sabbath  a  very  tiresome  clay,  be- 
cause they  have  no  relish  for  religious  duties ;  nay, 
how  many  of  those  who  go  to  church  not  only  do 
not  find  any  pleasure  there,  but  are  glad  when  the 
service  is  over?  What  enjoyment  then. can  such 
expect  in  heaven?  I  well  remember  that  both  I 
and  my  companions  formerly  used  to  iaugh  at  the 
thoughts  of  going  to  heaven ;  and  were  so  profane 
as  to  say  that  we  should  not  like  for  eVerto  sit  on 
a  cloud  and  sing  hallelujah  ;  and  I  fear  we  spoke 
the  real  sentiments  of  many  more.  Before  any 
one  can  properly  wish  for  heaven,  or  enjoy  it  here- 
after* he  must  repent,  and  pray  Until  God  gives 
him  a  clean  heart,  and  renews  a  right  spirit  within 
him.  Old  things  must  be  done  away*  all  things  must 
become  new.  And  then  he  will  be  meet  to  be  a  par- 
taker of  the  inheritance  with  the  saints  in  light. 

But  to  return.  When  the  lady  had  expressed 
her  mean  ideas  of  the  joys  of  heaven,  Dick  began 
to  spout  away, 


106 

*thy  nature  immortality  !  who  knows  ? 
And  yet  who  knows  it  not  ?  It  is  but  life 
In  stronger  thread  and  brighter  colours  spun, 

And  spun  for  ever. 

■ H  o  w  great 

To  ming'le  hit9 rests,  converse,  amities, 

With  all  the  sons  of  reason  scattered  wide 

Thro'  habitable  space,  wherever  born, 

Howe'er  endow'd  !  To  live  free  citizen* 

Of  universal  nature  ;  to  lay  hold 

By  more  than  feeble  faith,  on  the  Supreme  : 

To  call  heav'n's  unfathomable  mines 

.Our  own  I  To  rise  in  science  as  in  bliss, 

In;tiate  in  the  secrets  of  the  skies  ! 

To  read  creation,  in  its  mighty  plan  ; 

In  the  bare  bosom  of  the  Deity  ! 

To  see  before  each  glance  of  piercing  thought, 

./Ul  cloud,  all  shadows,  blown  remote  ;  and  have 

JJo  mystery*— but  that  of  love  divine^- 

Trom  darkness,  and  from  dust,  to  such  a  scene  i 

Love's  element  ;  true  joy's  illustrious  home  ! 

y i  om  earth's  sad  contrast  (now  deplor'd)  more  fair ! 

"What  exquisite  vicissitude  of  fate  ! 

Blest  absolution  of  our  blackest  hour  ! 

.« These  are  thoughts  that  make  man,  man, 

The  wise  illumine  ;  agrandise  the  great. 

DR.   YOUNG- 


How,  Madam,  do  you  like  such  a  Heaven  as 
this  I  "  O  the  description  is  delightful,  charming, 
I  could  have  no  objection  to  such  a  heaven  to- 
morrow ;"  and  she  acknowledged  that  she  saw  no- 
thing romantic  in  the  poet's  glowing  description. 
She  believed  that  had  she  given  the  subject  a  pro- 
per consideration,  she  must  have  had  more  fa- 
vourable ideas  of  the  happiness  promised  to  those 
that  fear  God  and  keep  his  commandments. 

I  repeated  the  following  lines  of  Horace  r 


107 

Dost  hear  ?  or  sporting  in  my  brain 
What  wildly-sweet  delirium  reign  ? 
Lo  !  'mid  Elysium's  balmy  groves, 
Each  happy  shade  transported  rove?», 
I  see  the  living  scene  display'd, 
\Vhere  rills  and  breathing"  gales  sigh  murmuring'thxa1 
the  shades.  Francis. 

She  liked  the  christian's  heaven  best,  andj  smil- 
ing, said,  that  as  we  seemed  to  be  acquainted  with 
the  country,  she  should  be  glad  if  we  would  give 
her  some  further  account  of  it.  We  quoted  the 
following  passages. 

Look  up  my  soul,  pant  toward  th*  eternal  hills  : 

Those  heav'ns  are  fairer  than  they  seem  ; 
There  pleasures  all  sincere  glide  on  crystal  rills  5 
There  not  a  dreg  of  guilt  denies, 
Nor  grief  disturbs  the  stream  ! 
That  Canaan  knows  no  noxious  thing, 
No  cursed  soil,  no  tainted  spring, 
No  roses  grow  on  thorns,   nor  honey  wears  a  sting* 
Br.  Watts'*  Lyric  jPoems. 

I  knew  a  man,  whether  in  the  body,  or  out  of  the 
body,  I  cannot  tell,  God  knoweth  j)  how  that  he  wa» 
caught  up  into  paradise,  and  heard  unspeakable  words* 
which  is  not  lawful  (or  possible)  for  man  to  utter 

ST.  PAULi 


What  is  death,  that  I  should  fear  it  ? 

To  die  !  why^'tis  to  triumph  ;  *tis  to  join 

The  great  assembly  of  the  good  and  just  ; 

Immortal  worthies,  heroes,  prophets,  saints! 

Oh,  'tis  to  join  the  band  of  holy  men 

Made  perfect  by  their  sufferings  !  'Tis  to  meet 

My  great  progenitors  ;  they,  with  whom  the  Lord 

Deigu'd  to  hold  familiar  converse !  'Tis  to  c«e. 


Bless'd  Noah  and  his  children!  onee  a  world  ! 
'Tis  to  behold,  Oh,  rapture  to  conceive  ! 
Those  we  have  known,  and  lov'd,  and  lost  below  ! 
To  join  the  blest  hosannas  to  their  king1  ! 
Whose  face  to  see,  whose  glory  to  behold, 
Alone  were  heav'n,  tho'  saint  or  seraph  none 
Should  meet  our  sight,  and  only  God  were  there  ! 
This  is  to  die  !  who  would  not  die  for  this  ? 
Who  would  not  die  that  we  may  live  for  ever  ? 

MKS.    H.     MORE. 


Let  us  suppose  a  man  blind  and  deaf  from  his 
birth,  who  being  grown  up  to  man's  estate,  is  by 
the  dead-palsy,  or  some  other  cause,  deprived  of 
Lis  feeling,  tasting,  and  smelling;  and  at  the  same 
time  has  the  impediment  of  his  hearing  removed, 
and  the  film  taken  off  his  eyes;  what  the  five 
senses  are  to  us,  that  the  touch,  taste,  and  smell 
were  to  him.  And  any  other  ways  of  perception 
of  a  more  refined  and  extensive  nature  were  to 
iiim  as  inconceivable,  as  to  us  those  are  which  will 
one  day  be  adapted  to  perceive  those  things  which 
"  eye  has  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  neither  hath  it 
entered  into  the  heart  of  man  to  conceive/'  And 
it  would  be  just  as  reasonable  in  him  to  conclude, 
that  the  loss  of  those  three  senses  could  not  possi- 
bly be  succeeded  by  any  new  inlets  of  perception ; 
as  in  a  modern  freethinker  to  imagine  there  can 
be  no  state  of  life  and  perception  without  the 
senses  he  enjoys  at  present.  Let  us  further 
suppose  the  same  person's  eyes,  at  their  first 
opening,  to  be  struck  with  a  great  variety  of 
the  most  gay  and  pleasing  objects,  and  his  ears 
■with  a  melodious  concert  of  vocal  and  instrumen- 
tal music  :  behold  him  amazed,  ravished,  trans- 


109 

ported ;  and  you  have  some  faint  glimmering 
idea  of  the  extatic  state  of  the  soul  in  that  article 
in  which  he  emerges  from  this  sepulchre  of  flesh 
rato  life  and  immortality.  addison. 

Who  would  not  willingly  leave  a  foolish,  fro- 
ward,  ill-natured  world,  for  the  blessed  society  of 
wise  friends  and  perfect  lovers  ?  What  a  felicity 
must  it  be  to  spend  an  eternity  in  such  a  noble 
conversation  !  where  we  shall  hear  the  deep  phi- 
losophy of  heaven  communicated  with  mutual  free- 
dom  in  the  wise  and  amiable  discourses  of  angeU 
and  glorified  spirits  :  who  without  any  reserve  or 
affectation  of  mystery,  without  passion,  or  interest, 
or  peevish  contention  for  victory,  do  freely  philoso- 
phize, and  mutually  impart  the  treasures  of  each 
other's  knowledge.  For  since  all  saints  there  are 
great  philosophers,  and  all  philosophers  perfect 
saints,  we  must  needs  suppose  knowledge  and  good- 
ness, wisdom  and  charity  to  be  equally  intermin- 
gled throughout  all  their  conversation  ;  being  so, 
what  can  be  imagined  more  delightful !  When 
therefore  we  shall  leave  this  impertinent,  unsocial 
world,  and  all  our  good  old  friends  that  have  gone 
to  heaven  before  us  meet  us  as  soon  as  we  are 
landed  on  the  shore  of  eternity,  and  with  infinite 
congratulations  for  our  safe  arrival,  shall  conduct 
us  into  the  company  of  the  patriarchs  and  prophets, 
apostles  and  martyrs,  and  introduce  us  into  an  in- 
timate acquaintance  with  them,  and  with  all  those 
brave  and  generous  souls  who  by  their  glorious  ex- 
amples have  recommended  themselves  to  the 
world  \  when  we  shall  be  familiar  friends  with 
K 


110 


tea* 
n  to 


angets  and  archangels,  and  all  the  courtiers  of  /tea 
ven  shall  call  us  brethren^  and  bid  us  enter  into 
their  Master's  joy. 

My  friend  Dick  said,  that  he  had  often  pleased 
himself  with  the  hopes  of  not  only  seeing  and 
being  acquainted  with  eminent  christians,  such  as 
Newton,  Locke,  Boyle,  Fenelon,  Pascal,  the 
Man  of  Ross,  Dr.  Johnson,  J.  Hanway,  Howard 
and  others,  but  also  Pythagoras,  Socrates,  Plato, 
Aristotle,  Epictetus,  Cicero,  Cato,  &c. 

I  advised  our  good  lady  to  read  Dr.  Scott's 
Christian  Life,  particularly  the  first  part;  and 
also  Sherlock,  on  the  Happiness  of  good  men  in  a 
future  state  ;  and  Dr.  Watts,  on  the  Happiness  of 
Separate  Spirits.  I  also  told  her  that  she  would 
find  some  rational,  and  many  amusing  passages 
on  the  happiness  of  the  celestial  regions,  in  Mrs. 
Rowe's  works.  I  will  conclude  this  long  letter 
with  a  few  lines  of  that  pious  lady. 

O,  come  !  ye  sacred  gusts,  ye  pure  delight?.. 
Ye  heav'nlv  sounds,  ye  intellectual  sights  ; 
Ye  gales  of  paradise,  that  lull  to  rest, 
And  fill  \Vith  silent  calm  the  peaceful  breast  : 
With  you,  transporting  hopes,  that  boldly  rise. 
And  swell,  in  blissful  torrents,  to  the  skies  : 
That  soar  with  angels  on  their  splendid  wings  r 
And  search  th*  arcana  of  celestial  things. 
Here  let  me  dwell  and  bid  the  world  adieu  ! 
And  still  converse,  ye  glorious  scenes,  with  you. 

I  amr 

Dear  Friend, 

Yours> 


Ill 
LETTER  XVII. 

Thus  Earth,  and  all  that  earthly  minds  admire, 
Is  sw allowed  in  Eternity's  vast  round. 
To  that  stupendous  view  when  souls  awake, 
Time's  toys  suhside  ;  and  equal  alt  below. 

DR.  YOUNG, 
DEAR    FRIEND, 

I  NOW  sit  down  to  give  you  a  few  mere  par- 
ticulars relating  to  my  conversion  to  Christianity. 
My  conversion  was  not  instantaneous,  but  progres- 
sive ;  for,  in  retreating  from  the  cause  ol  infideli- 
ty, I  disputed  every  inch  of  ground  before  I  re- 
linquished it.  I  found  it  impossible  long  to  re- 
main a  downright  atheist,  but  was  sceptical  for 
some  years  ;  and  I  even  had  an  atheistical  pam- 
phlet, which  was  hard  to  be  come  at,  reprinted,  on 
hearing  that  the  author  had  in  great  haste  taken 
away  nearly  the  whole  of  his  own  impression  from 
the  different  booksellers  where  they  had  been  left 
for  sale.  I  also  advised  a  Scotch  bookseller  to  re- 
print another  work  in  the  cause  of  infidelity ; 
which  he  did,  and  I  purchased  many  of  the  im- 
pression and  sold  them.  During  this  period  I 
did  not  think  that  the  belief,  or  disbelief,  of  any 
article  of  faith,  had  any  influence  on  the  morals  of 
mankind. 

About  nine  or  tea  years  since,  one  of  the 
French  emigrants  wanted  me  very  much  to  print 
a  translation  from  the  French  of  an  atheistical 
work  ;  but  having  begun  to  see  the  bad  effects  of 
such  publications,  he  could  not  prevail  upon  me 


112 

to  have  any  thing;  to  do  with  him  or  his  works ; 
nor  from  that  time  do  I  recollect  vending  any  of 
the  new  productions  of  that  kind. 

I  for  many  years  had  doubts  as  to  the  immorta- 
lity of  the  soul,  and,  at  intervals,  disbelieved  that 
doctrine  ;  but  as  I  occasionally  read  the  Night 
Thoughts  of  Dr.  Young,  his  strong  arguments  in 
favour  of  the  soul's  immateriality  and  immortali- 
ty, prevented  me  from  settling  in  unbelief  on  that 
important  article.  I  also  once  dreamed  (pray  do 
not  laugh  and  think  me  still  dreaming)  that  I  saw 
the  finest  poem  I  had  ever  read  in  my  life  ;  on 
which  I  reasoned  thus.  As  I  never  saw  any  com- 
position equal  to  that  which  I  read  in  my  dream  ; 
and  as  from  the  ideas  which  I  retained  of  it  when 
I  awoke,  it  appeared  a  thousand  times  more  beau- 
tiful than  any  thing  I  could  compose  when  awake, 
therefore  my  soul  must  be  immaterial;  for  other- 
wise I  could  not,  while  in  a  state  of  sleep,  have 
combined  and  arranged  such  a  variety  of  beautiful 
and  delightful  ideas  as  to  me  appeared  a  new  cre- 
ation. On  this  head  Bishop  Butler  says,  u  That 
we  have  no  reason  to  think  our  organs  of  sense 
precipients,  is  confirmed  by  instances  of  persons 
losing  some  of  them,  the  living  beings  themselves, 
their  former  occupiers,  remaining  unimpaired.  It 
is  confirmed  also  by  the  experience  of  dreams  ; 
by  which  we  find  we  are  at  present  possessed  of  a 
latent,  and,  what  would  otherwise  be,  an  unima- 
gined,  unknown  power  of  perceiving  sensible  ob- 
jects, in  as  strong  and  lively  a  manner  without  our 
external  organs  of  sense  as  with  them. 

I  presume,  that  the  good  Bishop  in  this  passage 


113 


only  speaks  of  our  common  dreams,  which  was  by 
no  means  the  case  of  mine. 

The  following  lines  were  often  impressed  on 
my  mind,  and  were  repeated  by  me  times  without 
number,  when  alone  : 


-Whv  shrinks  the  soul 


Back  on  herself  and  startles  at  destruction  ? 

'Tis  the  divinity  that  stirs  within  us  : 

?Tis  heaven  itself  that  points  out  an  hereafter, 

And  intimates  eternity  to  man. 

Eternity !  thou  pleasing",  dreadful  thought  ! 

A  DDT  SON'S  CAT  6. 

It  is  not  my  design  to  adduce  the  proofs  of  those 
doctrines  that  I  have  again  heartily  embraced,  but 
I  cannot  help  inserting  a  few  quotations  on  some 
of  those  points.  Cicero  says,  in  his  Tusc.  Qirest. 
"  We  can  never  believe,  that  after  the  virtuoi 
have  struggled  through  all  their  labours,  an  infi- 
nitely good  and  Almighty  God  will  let  them  fall 
into  an  eternal  sleep."  In  another  place  he  says, 
"  If  I  am  wrong  in  believing  that  the  souls  of 
men  are  immortal,  I  please  myself  in  my  mis- 
take :  nor  while  I  live,  will  I  ever  chyse  that  this 
opinion,  wherewith  I  am  so  much  delighted, 
should  be  wrested  from  me  ;  but  if  at  death  I 
am  to  be  annihilated,  as  some  minute  philosophers 
imagine,  I  am  not  afraid  lest  those  wise  men, 
when  extinct  too,  should  laugh  at  my  error." 

And  in  his  charming  treatise  on  old  age,  he 
says,  "  This  is  my  firm  persuasion,  that  since  the 
human  soul  exerts  itself  with  so  great  activity ,. 
since  it  has  such  a  remembrance  of  the  past,  such 
a  concern  for  the  future,  since  it  is  Qnrichetl  with 
K  2 


114 

so  many  arts,  sciences,  and  discoveries,  it  is  im- 
possible but  the  being  which  contains  all  these 
must  be  immortal." 

I  will  conclude  this  with  a  few  lines  from  my 
favourite  author. 

Eternity's  vast  ocean  lies  before  tliee. 
Give  the  mind  sea-room  ;  keep  it  wide  of  earth, 
Tnat  rock  of  souls  immortal  ;  cut  thy  cord  ; 
Weigh  anchor  ;  spread  thy  sails  ;  call  ev'ry  wind  ; 
Eye  the  Great  Pole-star  ,•  make  the  Land  of  Life. 

NIGHT   THOUGHTS. 

I  will  proceed  with  my  narativc  in  my  next. 
I  am, 

Dear  friend, 

Your's. 


LETTER   XVIII. 

On  argument  alone  my  faith  is  built  ; 
Reason  pursu'd  is  Faith  ,•  and,  unpursu'd 
Where  proof  invites,  tis  Reason  then  no  more  : 
And  such  our  Proof,  that,  or  our  Faith  is  right, 
Or  Reason  lies,  and  heav'n  design'd  it  wrong. 

DR.    YOUNG. 


DEAR    FRIEND, 

ABOUT  eight  years  since,  the  being  ana 
providence  of  God  were  a  good  deal  impressed 
on  my  mind,  so  that  I  often  reflected  on  those  im- 
portant subjects  in  my  garden,  in  the  fields,  in 
bed,  in  short*  in  all  places.     The  principles  and 


115 

duties  of  natural  religion  had  some  influence  on 
my  mind  and  conduct.  I  sometimes  went  to 
church,  where  I  felt  a  spirit  of  devotion  j  so  that 
I  found  my  heart  engaged  in  the  prayers,  and  felt 
some  degree  of  thankfulness  to  God,  1  also  felt 
the  same  spirit  of  devotion  at  times  when  not  at 
church.  Ncr  could  I  help  admiring  the  charac- 
ter of  Christ ;  his  precepts  also  appeared  to  me 
perfectly  well  calculated  to  promote  both  public 
and  private  happiness. 

In  this  state  of  mind  I  went  quietly  and  con- 
tentedly on  for  some  years.  As  I  had  no  relish 
for  ti^  ridiculous  pursuits  of  those  around  me, 
my  amusement  was  reading,  or,  now  and  then, 
scribbling, 

I  at  last  (as  I  have  before  informed  you)  began 
to  read  some  extracts  from  books  on  divinity, 
which  I  found  in  the  Reviews.  Those  extracts 
gave  me  a  more  thoughtful  turn,  and  left  my 
mind  open  to  conviction.  The  first  entire  work 
that  I  read  in  defence  of  revealed  religion,  was 
Archdeacon  Paley's  View  of  the  Evidences  of 
Christianity. 

By  the  time  I  had  gone  through  this  very  able 
and  convincing  work  once,  I  was  effectually 
humbled,  and  obliged  to  cry  out,  God  be  merciful 
to  me  a  dreadful  sinner  !  I  was  obliged  to  confess 
that  the  wisdom,  power  and  love  of  God  were  dis- 
played in  the  gospel. 

But  although  I  was  convinced  that  the  gospel 
was  a  revelation  from  God,  yet  I  had  great  doubts 
as  to  the  dispensations  contained  in  the  Old  Tes- 
tament :  nor  did  I  think  the  New  Testament  an 
inspired  work  :  in  short;  I  gave  but  little  more 


116 

credit  to  either  the  Old  or  New  Testament,  than 
I  did  to  Xenophon  or  Livy.  As  I  believed  that 
Xenophon  and  Livy  were  honest  men,  and  faith- 
ful historians,  I  therefore  credited  their  narra- 
tions. And  even  in  this  view  of  the  authors 
of  the  New  Testament,  I  could  not  help  believing 
that  the  christian  religion  was  a  revelation  of  the 
will  of  God.  On  the  same  evidence,  I  saw  that  I 
ought  to  believe  the  Old  Testament  dispensations 
were  from  God;  yet  the  various  objections  which 
unbelievers  have  repeatedly  made  to  the  Jewish 
dispensation,  together  with  many  texts  in  the 
Old  Testament,  were  difficulties  I  could  not  get 
over,  until  I  had  read  part  of  Paley  again  ;  and 
also  the  third  enlarged  edition  of  the  first  volume, 
and  the  second  edition  of  the  second  volume  of 
JenkhVs  Reasonableness  and  certainty  of  the 
christian  religion.  This  very  extraordinary, 
learned  and  sensible  work,  gave  nae  ample  satis- 
faction on  those  heads  :  and  it  is  worth  remark- 
ing, that  this  work  was  written  before  Tyndal, 
Collins,  Morgan,  &c.  wrote  their  objections  and 
misrepresentations,  which  makes  them  the  more 
inexcuseable.  I  have  induced  several  of  the  clergy 
to  look  into  this  masterly  work,  who  now  think 
it  a  performance  that  discovers  great  reading, 
great  abilities,  and  biblical  learning. 

When  I  had  satisfied  myself  on  the  above 
heads,  I  still  had  my  doubts  as  to  some  of  the 
mysteries  of  the  christian  religion.  The  divinity 
of  Christ,  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity,  and  the 
atonement  made  by  Christ,  Sec.  I  could  not  be- 
lieve, because  I  could  not  comprehend  them.  I 
believed  that  Christ  was  sent  by  God?to  give  man> 


117 

kind  a  pure  system  of  morality,  to  assure  us  of 
the  immortality  of  the  soul,  the  resurrection  of 
the  body,  and  future  rewards  and  punishments  : 
and  that  by  his  perfect  life,  his  sufferings  and 
death,  he  had  given  us  an  excellent  example — 
Further  than  this  I  could  not  believe,  until  I  had 
again  and  airain  consulted  the  scriptures,  various 
commentators,  and  the  works  of  many  other 
learned  divines,  from  whom  I  received  great  as- 
sistance ;  particularly  from  Jenkin,  and  also  from 
Bishop  Butler's  Analogy  of  Religion,  an  exceed- 
ingly valuable  work.  In  this  study  I  have  em- 
ployed a  very  large  portion  of  my  time,  and  in  it 
I  have  found  a  lasting  source  of  pleasure  and  de- 
light. 

After  all  my  investigation,  although  I  assent 
to  the  truth  of  those  doctrines,  I  do  not  pretend 
th  c  I  comprehend  them.  I  only  believe  them, 
because  I  think  they  are  taught  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, and  by  Christ  and  his  apostles  in  the  New 
Testament. 

The  following  passage  in  Butler's  Analogy  of 
Religion, pleaded  me  much.  "Hence,  (says  the 
doctor)  namely,  from  analogical  reasoning,  Ori- 
gen  has  with  singular  sagacity  observed,  that 
*  he  who  believes  the  scripture  to  have  proceeded 
from  him  who  is  the  Author  of  Nature,  may  well 
expect  to  find  the  same  sort  of  difficulties  in  it, 
as  we  found  in  the  constitution  of  naiure.'  On 
the  quotation  the  Doctor  adds,  '  And  in  like  way 
of  reflection  it  may  be  added,  that  he  who  denies 
the  scripture  to  have  been  from  God,  upon  ac- 
count of  these  difficulties,  may,  for  the  very  same- 
reason,  deny  the  world  to  have  been  formed  by 


118 

him.  On  the  other  hand,  if  there  be  an  analogy 
or  likeness  between  that  system  of  things  and 
dispensation  of  Providence  which  revelation  in- 
forms us  of,  and  that  system  of  things  and  dis- 
pensation of  Providence  which  experience,  to- 
gether with  reasen,  informs  us  of,  i.  e.  the  known 
course  of  Nature  ;  this  is  a  presumption,  that 
they  both  have  the  same  Author  and  cause." 

I  have  often,  like  other  infidels,  laughed  at  peo- 
ple's believing  what  they  did  not  understand  ; 
without  considering  that,  were  we  to  believe  no 
more  than  what  we  understand,  even  of  the  com- 
mon operations  of  nature,  we  should  scarce  be- 
lieve any  thing. 

Jen  kin,  when  treating  of  the  doctrine  of  the 
Trinity,  vol.  ii.  p.  401,  says,  "  The  sum  is,  that 
in  the  most  perfect  unity  of  the  Divine  Nature, 
do  subsist  the  Father,  the  Son,  and  the  Holy 
Ghost,  between  whom  is  a  real  distinction,  which 
though  not  the  same,  yet  is  equivalent  to  the 
distinctions  of  persons  among  men.  That  there 
is  this  unity  and  this  distinction,  we  learn  from 
the  scriptures;  but  what  kind  of  distinction  this 
is,  or  how  far  it  is  to  be  reconciled  with  our  notion 
of  persons  amongst  men,  and  after  what  manner 
it  is  consistent  with  the  unity  of  the  Godhead,  the 
scriptures  have  not  told  us,  and  it  is  impossible 
for  us  to  determine."  In  page  333,  he  says,  "  But 
some  men  will. say,  how  is  this  union  between  the 
divine  and  human  nature  in  Christ  made,  or 
wherein  doth  it  consist?  To  whom  we  may  reply, 
as  our  Saviour  sometimes  did,  by  asking  another 
question,  and  inquiring,  How  the  body  and  soul 
of  man  is  united  ?  or  How  God  is  present  in  all 


119 

places  ?  And  how  in  him  we  live,  move,  and  have 
our  being?"  Page  196,  he  observes,  "  The  best 
philosophers  have  been  able  to  give  no  account 
how  motion  can  be  communicated  without  an  im- 
mediate impulse,  or  concourse  of  the  divine  pow- 
er." Page  147,  "Through  an  immense  void 
space,  the  sun's  rays  find  their  regular  and  con- 
stant way,  and  in  a  few  minutes  pass  from  the 
sun  to  the  earth  ;  for  which  there  is  no  cause  as- 
signable from  the  attractive  power  ;  which  should 
rather  detain  the  rays  of  light  in  a  perpetual  cir- 
culation about  the  sun's  centre,  than  dart  them 
forth  by  so  violent  a  motion  to  the  remotest  dis- 
tance. But  God  6aid,  Let  there  be  tight,  and  there 
nvas  light.  He  prepared  the  light  and  the  sun.  This 
is  the  best  and  the  most  philosophical  account  that 
has  ever  been  given  of  the  productions  of  light." 
Again,  If  all  the  fluids  which  the  sun  loses  in  a 
year,  were  brought  into  a  solid  form,  it  would  not 
equal  a  grain  of  sand." 

Gilpin  in  his  second  sermon  observes,  "  But  it 
is  mysterious,  says  the  deist.  Aye,  surely  ;  and 
so  is  every  pile  of  grass  you  tread  on.  But  the 
question  is  not  whether  things  be  mysterious — 
for  all  things  are  mysterious — but  whether  the 
mystery  be  supported  by  evidence  ?  The  pile  of 
grass  appeals  to  all  nature,  for  its  being  the  work 
!>f  God :  and  the  truth  of  Christ's  atonement, 
however  mysterious,  is  supported  by  evidence 
squally  strong. — It  rests  on  all  the  evidence  that 
scripture  can  give  it." 

"  This  great  doctrine  is  supported  also  by  the 
analogy  of  God's  moral  government,  under  which 
tve  all  act  as  a  kind  of  redeemers,  and  mediators 


120 

among  each  other,  in  our  own  little  temporal  af- 
fairs/' 

"  Nor  is  it  a  weak  argument  in  favour  of  this 
doctrine,  when  we  appeal  to  our  own  feelings.  We 
must  be  conscious,  when  we  look  into  ourselves, 
of  such  unworthiness,  as  must  entirely  disqualify 
us  for  the  divine  favour,  without  some  better  in- 
troduction than  our  own.  It  is  an  opinion  strong- 
ly implanted  in  our  nature,  Guilt  always  wishes 
for  support ."  It  is  said  of  Leibnitz,  that  he  never 
mentions  the  sacred  books  but  with  respect;  they 
are  filled,  said  he,  with  a  morality  necessary  to  man. 
He  said  also,  we  ought  to  judge  of  the  works  of 
God  as  wisely  as  Socrates  did  of  those  of  Hera- 
clitus,  by  saying,  That  which  I  comprehend  flleases 
me  ;  I  believe  the  rest  would  not  please  me  less,  if 
I  understood  it." 


-Man  to  himself 


Is  all  a  miracle,  I  cannot  see 

The  latent  cause,  yet  such  I  know  there  is, 

That  gives  the  body  motion,  nor  tell 

By  what  strange  impulse  'tis,  the  ready  limb 

Performs  the  purposes  of  will.     How  then 

Shall  thou  or  I,  who  cannot  span  ourselves 

In  this  our  narrow  vessel,  comprehend 

The  being  of  a  God  ? 

VILLAGE    CURATE. 

lam, 

Dear  Friend, 

Your's 


121 
LETTER  XIX. 


Tell  if  thou  knowesf,  why  Conscience  acts 
With  tenfold  force,  when  sickness,  age,  or  pain 
Stands  tott'ring  on  the  pre:  pice  of  death  ? 
Or  why  such  horror  gnaws  the  guilty  soul 
Of  dying  sinners,  while  the  good  man  sleeps 
Peaceful  and  calm  ;  and  with  a  smile  expires  ? 

DR.  GLYNN. 
DEAR    FRIEND, 

YOU  ask  whether  still  I  am  satisfied  and 
pleased  with  those  parts  oftne  Memoirs  of  my 
Life,  in  which  I  have  made  so  free  with  "Mr. 
Wesley  and  his  people  ?  I  answer  in  the  nega- 
tive. I  am  not  pleased,  or  satisfied,  on  that  head, 
for  the  following  reasons. 

I  now  think  that  I  have  treated  serious  subjects 
in  too  light  and  trifling  a  manner  ;  and  that  some 
of  my  stones  should  have  been  omitted,  for  obvi- 
ous reasons.  The  late  Mr.  Badcock  says,  "  In 
Warburton's  works  (against  the  Methodists)there 
is  too  much  levity  for  a  Bishop,  and  too  much  il- 
literate abuse  for  a  Christian."  Even  while  I  re- 
mained a  freethinker,  I  sometimes  thought  that  I 
had  been  too  severe  towards  them  :  as  a  christian, 
I  see  my  faults  in  a  still  stronger  light.  A  real 
religious  person  will  be  careful  how  he  speaks  of 
the  faults  and  failings  of  others  :  nor  will  he  treat 
religious  subjects  with  levity. 

Although  I  was  an  infidel  when  I  wrote  my 
Memoirs,  yet  I  was  very  careful  that,  in  what  I 
wrote  against  the  Methodists,  nothing  should 
L 


1-22 

point  against  (what  I  conceived  to  be)  Christi- 
anity :  but  although  I  have  not  said  any  thing 
against  what  I  conceived  to  be  revealed  religion  ; 
yet  I  find  that  some  infidels  have  so  understood 
me  ;  from  which  I  learn  that  what  was  intended 
to  be  levelled  only  against  enthusiasm  and  fanati- 
cism, is  by  some  of  those  unbelievers  supposed  to 
be  pointed  against  revealed  religion,  so  that  if  by 
any  means  I  have  contributed  towards  confirm- 
ing, or  hardening  any  unbeliever  in  his  infidelity, 
I  am  sorry  on  that  account  also. 

In  the  latter  end  of  the  year  1791,  when  my 
Memoirs  were  first  published,  I  had  not  witness- 
ed, to  its  extent,  the  pernicious  influence  of  infi- 
del opinions  upon  all  ranks  in  society.  After  I 
became  better  acquainted  with  the  dreadful  effects 
of  infidelity  in  others,  I  was  sorry  for  what  I  had 
done,  for  I  was  then  fully  convinced,  that  the  ge- 
nerality of  mankind  will  always  be  much  happier 
and  better  while  under  the  influence  of  religious 
fanaticism,  and  even  superstition  than  when  they 
have  lost  all  regard  to^or  sense  of  religion.  Be- 
sides, I  had  known  by  myself  and  others,  that  for 
want  of  sufficient  knowledge,  many  when  they 
are  reasoned  out  of  fanaticism,  are  liable  to  go  to 
the  other  extreme,  by  plunging  into  infidelity. 

If  then,  while  yet  an  infidel,  I  could  see  rea- 
sons why  my  strictures  on  Mr.  Wesley's  people 
should  have  been  omitted,  you  may  easily  con- 
clude that  I  am  not  satisfied  on  that  head,  now  my 
views  of  things  are  so  much  altered. 

On  this  head  I  formerly  quoted  a  passage  from 
that  inconsistent  infidel  Rousseau  ;  I  found  fault 
wjth  it,  because  I  did  not  understand  it,  (no  im« 


125 

common  thing)  ;  the  reason  I  did  not  understand 
it  was  because  I  read  it  in  a  publication  where  it 
was  garbled  ;  I  have  since  found  it  in  its  proper 
place  and  state,  it  is  in  the  third  volume  of  his 
Emilius,  and   from  thence  I  will  transcribe  it. 

4  Avoid  all  those  who,  under  pretence  of  ex- 
plaining natural  causes,  plant  the  most  destruc- 
tive doctrines  in  the  hearts  of  men  ;  and  whose 
apparent  scepticism  is  an  hundred  times  more 
dogmatical  and  affirmative,  than  the  decisive 
tone  of  their  adversaries.  Under  the  haughty 
protest  of  being  the  only  persons  who  are  truly 
enlightened,  honest,  and  sincere,  they  subject 
us  imperiously  to  their  magisterial  decisions,  and 
give  us  for  the  true  principles  of  things,  only 
unintelligible  systems,  which  they  have  raised  in 
their  own  imaginations.  Add  to  this,  that  while 
they  overturn,  destroy,  and  trample  under  foot 
every  thing  that  is  respectable  among  mankind, 
they  deprive  the  afflicted  of  the  last  consolation 
of  their  misery  ;  and  take  from  the  rich  and 
powerful  the  only  check  to  the  indulgence  of 
their  passions ;  and  they  eradicate  from  our 
hearts  the  remorse  of  guilt,  and  the  hopes  of 
virtue;  absurdly  boasting  themselves  at  the  time 
the  friends  and  benefactors  of  mankind.  The 
truth,  say  they,  can  never  be  hurtful :  so  far  I 
am  of  their  opinion,  and  this  is  to  me  a  great 
proof  that  what  they  teach  cannot  be  true.' 

To  the  above,  Rousseau  adds,  in  a  note,  the  fol- 
lowing : 

f  The  contending  parties  reciprocally  attack 
each  other  with  so  many  sophisms,  that  it 
would  be  a  rash  enterprise  to  undertake  to  ck- 


124 

pose  them  all.      One  of  the  most  common  on 
the  philosophical  side  of  the  question  is,  to  con- 
trast an   imaginary   people,   supposed   to  be  ail 
good  philosophers,  with  another  people  all  bad 
christians ;  as  if  it  were  more  easy   to  make  a 
people  true  philosophers  than  good  christians. 
I  know  not  whether  among  individuals,  one  be 
more  easily  met  with  than  the  other  ;  but  this  I 
know,  that  when  we  speak  of  a  people,  we  must 
suppose  they  would  as  much  abuse  a  philosophy 
without  religion,  as  they  do  religion  without  phi- 
losophy ;  and  this  consideration  seems  to  me  to 
make  a  great  difference  in  the  question.     Bayie 
ifas  proved  very  acutely,  that  fanaticism  is  more  _ 
p&rnicious  than  atheism  ;  and  this  is  not  to  be 
disputed  :  but  he  neglected  to  observe,  what  is 
nevertheless   true,  that  fanaticism,  though  san- 
guinary and  cruel,  is  a  great  and  animating  pas- 
sion,   that  it    elevates  the  heart    of  man,    and 
makes  him  look  down  with  contempt  on  death  ; 
that  it  is  a  prodigious  spring  of  action,  and  re- 
quires only  to  be  duly  regulated  in  order  to  pro- 
duce the  most  sublime  virtues ;  whereas  on  the 
contrary,  irreligion  and  a  philosophical  spirit  in 
general,  attaches  us  to  life,  enervates  and  debases 
the  soul,  concentrating  all  our  passions  in  self- 
interest  ;  and  thus  sapping  by  degrees  the  foun- 
dations of  society.     If  atheism   be  less  sangui- 
nary, it  is  less  out  of  love  to  peace  than  from  an 
indifference  to  virtue :  let  the  world  go  how  it 
will,  it  little  concerns  these  pretended  sages,  pro- 
vided they  can  loll  at  ease  in  their  closets.  Their 
principles  do  not  excite  them  to  slaughter,  but 
they  prevent  them  from  adding  to  their  number, 
by  corrupting  the  manners  which  tend  to  their 


125 

increase ;  by  detaching  themselves  from  tbeii 
species,  and  reducing*  all  their  affections  to  a  sel- 
fish egotism,  as  fatal  to  population  as  to  virtue. 
The  indifference  of  a  philosopher  resembles  the 
tranquillity  of  a  state,  under  a  despotic  govern- 
ment ;  it  is  the  tranquillity  of  death,  and  more 
destructive  than  war  itself.  Thus  fanaticism, 
though  more  fatal  in  its  immediate  effects,  than 
what  is  called  the  philosophic  spirit  of  the  age, 
is  much  less  so  in  its  remoter  consequences. 

1  Philosophy,  on  its  own  principles,  cannot  be 
productive  of  any  virtue,  which  does  not  flow  from 
religion,  and  religion  is  productive  of  many  vir- 
tues, to  which  philosophy  is  a  stranger.     As  to 
the  practice  it  is  another  thing,  and  remains  to  be 
examined.      There  is  no  man  who  practises  in 
every  particular  the  duties  of  his  religion,  when 
he  has  one,  that  is  true  :  the  greater  part  of  man- 
kind have  hardly  any  religion  at  all,  and  practise 
nothing  of  what  little  they  have  ;  this  also  is  very 
true :    but  after  all,    some   have  religion,    and 
practise  it  at  least  in  part ;  and  it  is  incontestible, 
that  motives  of  religion  prevent  them  often  from 
falling  into  vice,  and  excite  to  virtuous  and  com- 
mendable actions,  which  they  had  not  perform- 
ed but  for  such  motives.      Let  a  priest  be  guilty 
of  a  breach  of  trust ;  what  does  this  prove  but 
that  a  blockhead  had  confided  in  him  ?  If  Pas- 
cal himself  had  done  it,  this  would  have  proved 
Pascal  an  hypocrite  ;  but  nothing  more. — But  a 
priest !    Well,  and  what  then  ?    Are  those  who 
make  a  traffic,  the  truly  religious  ?  The  crimes  of 
the  clergy  by  no  means  prove  that  religion  is  use* 
Tess,  but  that  fe>y  persons  arc  religious, 
M 


126 

"  Modern  governments  arc  undoubtedly  indebt- 
ed to  Christianity  for  their  most  solid  authority, 
and  the  rarity  of  revolutions  ;  it  has  even  ren- 
dered them  less  sanguinary;  this  is  proved  by 
comparing  them  with  the  ancient  governments. 
Religion  better  understood,  hat,h  by  banishing 
fanaticism  given  a  great  mildness  to  christian 
manners.  This  alteration  is  not  the  effect  of 
letters,  for  we  do  not  find  that  wherever  litera- 
ture hath  flourished,  humanity  hath  been  at  all 
times  the  more  respected  ;  the  cruelty  of  the 
Athenians,  the  Egyptians,  the  Roman  emper- 
ors, and  the  Chinese,  are  evidences  of  this.  On 
the  other  hand,  what  deeds  of  charity  and  mercy 
have  been  effected  by  the  gospel  1  how.  many 
restitutions  and  reparations  hath  not  the  prac- 
tice of  confessions  brought  about  among  the  Ca- 
tholics ?  Among  us  hew  many  reconciliations 
are  effected,  how  many  alms  are  distributed  be- 
fore approaching  communion  ?  Among  the 
Jews,  avarice  let  go  its  hold,  and  misery  was 
banished  from  among  them  on  the  approach  of 
their  jubilee.  Not  a  beggar  was  to  be  seen  in 
their  streets,  as  there  is  not  among  the  Turks, 
whose  charitable  foundations  are  innumerable. 
By  the  principles  of  their  religion  they  are  taught 
%o  be  hospitable  even  to  the  enemies  of  it.  Char- 
din  tells  us,  that  the  Mahometans  imagine  there 
is  a  bridge,  which  they  call  Poul-Serrho,  thrown 
over  the  flames  of  hell,  which  they  are  to  pass  at 
the  general  resurrection  ;  and  this  they  cannot 
do  until  they  have  repaired  the  injuries  they 
have  committed.  Can  I  conceive  that  this 
bridge,  which  is  to  repair  so  many  iniquities, 


127 

does  not  actually  prevent  some?  Suppose 
were  to  deprive  the  Persians  of  this  idea,  by 
persuading  them  there  is  no  such  thing  as  their 
Poul-Serrho,  nor  any  thing  like  it,  where  the  op- 
pressed shall  be  avenged  on  theiv  oppressors 
after  death;  is  it  not  clear  that  the  latter  would 
be  very  much  at  their  ease,  and  would  be  freed 
from  their  trouble  of  appeasing  the  former  ?  It  is 
therefore  false,  that  this  doctrine  is  not  hurtful  ; 
and  therefore  it  cannot  be  true. 

4i  Your  moral  precepts,  my  philosophers,  are 
very  fine  ;  but  pray  let  me  know  what  sanction 
you  have  for  them.  Forbear  a  moment  to  wan- 
der from  the  point,  and  tell  me  plainly  what  you 
substitute  in  the  place  of  the  Poul-Serrho." 

Although  Rousseau  in  this  note  allows  Bayle's 
assertions  to  be  true,  yet  I  think  it  is  evident  that 
in  his  reasoning  on  it  he  has  refuted  it :  and  it 
should  be  remarked,  that  this  author  was  only  ac- 
quainted with  a  few  philosophical  atheists  who 
speculated  in  their  closets.  What  would  he  have 
said  had  he  lived  to  see  those  opinions  taught  to 
the  vulgar,  and  some  of  those  philosophers  guilty 
of  the  most  horrid  crimes  ? 

From  the  examples  that  we  have  seen  in  France 
we  should  use  much  caution,  even  in  laudable  at- 
tempts to  eradicate  fanatical  or  superstitious  no- 
tions from  the  minds  of  the  common  people. 
Amongst  Mr.  Wesley's  people  there  are  no  doubt 
some  very  sensible  men  ;  that  this  should  be  the 
case  with  the  bulk  of  them  is  not  to  be  expected. 
It  is  obvious  that  neither  themselves  nor  their 
creed  could  be  corrected  or  reformed  by  the  me- 
thod I  took  ;  they  were  more  likely  to  be  induced 


128 

to  renounce  religion  altogether.  On  thataccount 
also,  I  am  not  satisfied  with  my  conduct  towards 
them  ;  but  I  will  conclude  this  and  resume  the 
subject  in  my  next. 

I  am, 

Dear  Friend, 

Your's. 


LETTER  XX. 

i:  By  hope  affected,  virtue  keeps  the  road 

"  That  leads  to  heaven,  and  gains  the  blissful  port. 

£C  On  his  support  the  wretched  still  rely, 

"  Live  on  his  words,  and  catch  the  balmy  gale  ; 

Xi  While  sweet  religion  points  the  weary  eye 
"  To  peace  beyond  this  mortal  vale." 

DEAR    FRIEND, 

HAD  not  my  last  been  so  long,  I  should  have 
added  a  curious  passage  from  the  notes  to  Dr. 
Parr's  Spital  Sermon,  preached  at  Christ  Church, 
upon  Easter  Tuesday,  April  15,  1800.  You  know 
that  Plutarch,  Bacon,  and  other  great  and  little 
men  have  said,  that  superstition  is  worse  than 
atheism.  I  repeated  their  words  in  my  Memoirs ; 
but  although  we  knew  the  effects  of  superstition, 
we  were,  until  lately,  ignorant  of  the  full  effects 
of  atheism.  As  the  subject  is  somewhat  con- 
nected with  that  of  my  preceding  letter,  I  will 
transcribe  the  passage. 

4  What.  I  would  ask,  (says  the  Doctor)  are  the 
general  effects  of  superstition  and  atheism  upon 


129 

the  happiness  and  the  conduct  of  mankind  ?  Su- 
perstition it  is  granted,  has  many  direct  sorrows; 
but  atheism,  no  direct  joys.  Superstition  admits 
fear,  mingled  with  hope  ;  but  atheism,  wniie  it 
excludes  hope,  affords  a  very  im perfect  security 
against  fear.  Superstition  is  never  exposed  to 
the  dreary  vacuity  in  the  soul,  over  which 
atheism  is  wont  to  brood  in  solitude  and  silence  ; 
but  atheism  is  sometimes  haunted  by  fore- 
bodings scarcely  less  confused,  or  less  un- 
quiet, than  those  by  which  superstition  is  annoy - 
ed.  Superstition  stands  aghast  at  the  punish- 
ments reserved  for  wicked  men  in  another  state  ; 
but  atheism  cannot  disprove  the  possibility  of such 
a  state  to  all  men  ;  accompanied  by  conscious- 
ness, and  fraught  with  evils  equally  dreadful  in 
degree  and  duration,  with  those  punishments. 
Superstition  has  often  preserved  men  from 
crimes  ;  but  atheism  tends  to  protect  them  from 
weakness  only.  Superstition  imposes  fresh  res- 
traints upon  the  sensual  appetites,  though  it  may 
often  let  loose  the  malignant  passions  ;  but  athe- 
ism takes  away  many  restraints  from  those  appe- 
tites, without  throwing  equal  checks  upon  those 
passions,  under  many  circumstances  which  may 
excite  them  in  the  minds  of  its  votaries.  Super- 
stition is  eager  from  a  vicious  excess  of  credulity ; 
but  atheism  is  often  obstinate  from  aia  excess  of 
incredulity,  equally  vicious.  Superstition  is  some- 
times docile  from  conscious  weakness ;  but 
atheism  is  always  haughty,  from  real  or 
supposed  strength.  Superstition  errs,  and 
perverts  only  in  consequence  of  error  ;  hut  athe- 
ism   rejects,   and  for    the    most  part,   disdains 


130 

to  examine  after  rejection.  Superstition  catches 
at  appearances  ;  but  atheism  starts  back  from  re- 
alities. Superstition  may,  in  a  favourable  mo- 
ment, be  awakened  to  the  call  of  truth  ;  but  athe- 
ism is  generally  deaf  to  the  voice  of  that  charmer, 
charm  she  never  so  wisely.' 

Further  on  the  Doctor  says, 

4  Wc  may  without  the  imputation  of  folly  ven- 
ture to  ask,  whether  the  arguments  against  athe- 
ism be  such  as  usually  produce  a  steady  assent  ^ 
and  to  warrant  an  unlimited  affiance  ?  Without 
the  imputation  of  perverseness,  we  may  not  be 
In  haste  to  apply  to  the  judgment  of  every  athe- 
ist, what  Taylor  eloquently  says  of  the  will,  that 
like  the  magnetic  needle,  "  it  was  full  of  tremb- 
ling and  uncertainty,  ere  it  became  fixed  at  its 
beloved  point,  wavering  at  first,  because  at  first  it 
tloubted,  and  then  was  at  rest,  because  it  could 
doubt  no  more."  <  After  reaching  that  state  of 
rest,  atheism  may  have  the  credit  of  rescuing 
a  man  from  the  agitations  of  delusive  hopes,  and 
the  torments  of  groundless  fears.  But  may  it 
not  destroy  at  the  same  time  other  fears,  which 
are  very  salutary  in  checking  our  fantastic  de- 
sires, and  calming  our  turbulent  resentments  ; 
and  may  it  not  extinguish  other  hopes  too,  which 
seem  necessary  to  support  the  bulk  of  mankind  in 
their  passage  through  this  vale  of  tears.' 

An  atheist  can  never  enjoy  such  happy  mo- 
ments as  the  following  lines  describe. 


Calm  as  the  stillness  which  succeeds  a  storm, 
Soft  as  the  spring-tide  in  its  milder  form, 
When  every  bud,  and  every  opening"  flower 


Exhales  fresh  sweetness  from  the  vernal  shower  , 
So  still,  so  calm,  so  tranquillized  the  bi-east, 
"When  all  the  fiend-like  passions  are  at  rest, 
"When  Grace  and  Nature's  jarring- discord  cease, 
And  conscience  whispers,  all  within  is  peace. 

Thoughts  on  Happiness. 

It  is  certainly  possible  even  for  a  fanatic,  or  a 
superstitious  person  to  experience  such  a  charm- 
ing state  of  mind  at  times  :  but  it  is  not  possible 
that  an  atheist  ever  should. 

In  every  edition  of  my  Memoirs,  is  the  fol- 
lowing passage, 

i  I  have  been  often  asked  if  1  did  not  believe,  or 
rather  know,  that  the  Methodists  were  a  vile  set 
of  hypocrites  altogether?  My  reply  has  been 
uniformly  in  the  negative.  I  am  certain  that 
they  are  not  in  general  so  :  the  greatest  part  of 
them  indeed  are  very  ignorant,  (which  is  the  case 
of  enthusiasts  of  every  religion  ;)  but  I  believe 
that  a  very  considerable  number  of  the  Metho- 
dists are  a  sincere,  honest,  and  friendly  people. 
In  Justice  to  those  of  that  description,  it  may  »ot 
be  amiss  to  observe,  that  many  artful,  sly,  de- 
signing persons,  have  noticed  their  character, 
connection,  kc\  and  knowing  that  a  religious  per- 
son is  in  general  supposed  to  be  honest  and  con- 
scientious, have  been  induced  to  join  their  soci- 
eties, and  by  assuming  an  appearance  of  extra- 
ordinary sanctity,  have  the  better  been  enabled 
to  cheat  and  defraud  such  as  were  not  guarded 
against  their  hypocritical  wiles/ 

If  at  a  time  when  I  had  shaken  hands  with 
christianitv  and  parted,  I  was  obliged  in  con- 


science  to  assert,  that  they  were  in  general  hon- 
est, friendly  and  sincere ;  you  may  easily  sup- 
pose that  I  am  not  now  pleased  with  my  attempts 
to  render  them  ridiculous,  as  I  learn  by  so  doing 
I  have  in  some  measure  been  aiding  the  cause  of 
infidelity.  And  perhaps  what  I  have  said  might 
also  have  tended  to  encourage  some  hardened 
and  impenitent  sinners,  who  are  ever  ready  to 
apply  what  might  be  said  in  a  light,  trifling  way, 
against  fanaticism  or  superstition  to  any  degree 
of  religious  worship  or  conduct  that  is  beyond 
the  ordinary  custom  of  the  world. 

I  also  think  that  I  should  not  have  endeavoured 
to  render  the  whole  of  those  people  ridiculous,  as 
by  so  doing  I  have  grieved  many  who  are  sincere- 
ly worshipping  God,  and,  as  they  think,  in  the 
best  way  and  manner  it  is  possible  to  worship 
him. 

It  must  be  acknowledged  that  they  have  been 
the  means  of  reclaiming  and  civilizing  many  ig- 
norant, hardened,  and  notorious  wretches,  in 
whom  it  were  hard  to  say  whether  the  devil  or 
brute  were  most  predominant ;  yet  such  as  these 
have  by  them  been  induced  ever  after  to  live  pi- 
ous, sober,  industrious  members  01  society. 

I  must  also  observe,  that  when  we  see  so  much 
coldness  and  indifference  towards  religion  and  re- 
ligious duties  ;  when  so  many  seem  to  think  that 
if  our  brethren  sleep  they  do  well ;  it  was  not  a 
time,  at  least  for  me,  to  be  declaiming  so  much 
against  enthusiasm.  I  must  conclude  this,  and 
finish  the  subject  in  my  next. 
I  am, 

Dear  friend,  your** 


133 

LETTER  XXL 

i   Odious  sland'ring  thief  is  worse 
Than  the  poor  rogue  who  steals  your  purse. 

COTTON. 
DEAR  FRIEND, 

I  AM  also  sorry  that  in  my  Memoirs  I  insert- 
ed two  letters  said  to  be  written  by  Mr.  Wesley, 
When  I  inserted  them,  I  informed  my  readers 
that  I  copied  them  from  a  pamphlet,  entitled 
«  A  Letter  to  the  Rev.  T.  Coke,  L.  L.  D.  and  Mr. 
Moore,  by  an  old  Member  (of  Mr.  Wesley's  So- 
ciety.) I  was  induced  to  believe  those  letters  to 
be  genuine,  partly  by  their  bearing  some  resem- 
blance to  Mr.  Wesley's  stile  and  manner,  but 
more  so  from  the  notice  which  was  printed  at  the 
end  of  the  second  letter,  and  is  as  follows  : 

Should  any  one  entertain  a  doubt  concerning  the 
foregoing  letters  being  written  by  Mr.  Wesley,  the 
author  can  produce  the  originals ,  for  the  satisfaction 
of  such,  if  they  will  take  the  trouble  to  call  on  the 
publisher,  who  has  his  address,  and  will  refer  them 
to  him. 

When  I  transcribed  these  letters  from  the  above 
pamphlet,  the  third  edition  of  my  Memoirs  was 
in  the  press  ;  and  as  the  printer  w  as  nearly  come 
to  the  part  where  I  wished  them  to  be  introduced, 
I  sent  the  copy  off  in  a  hurry,  and  then  set  off  to 
my  house  at  Merton. 

Some  time  after  these  extraordin  ary  letters  had 
been  printed  in  my  Memoirs,  I  wa  s  not  quite  sat- 
isfied that  I  had  omitted  to  see  the  originals, 
M  ^^ 


134 

Upon  which  I  sent  my  head  shopman,  with  my 
compliments  to  the  author  6f  the  pamphlet,  and 
requested  a  sight  of  ihose  original  letters  ;  but, 
instead  of  complying  with  my  request,  he  return- 
ed for  answer,  that  he  had  rt turned  the  letters  to 
the  persons  to  whom  they  were  written. 

When  I  found  that  he  could  not,  or  would  not 
produce  the  originals,  I  was  more  dissatisfied 
with  myself  for  having  inserted  them  in  my  Me- 
moirs. 

In  all  subsequent  editions  of  those  Memoirs,  I 
should  have  left  them  out  ;  but  after  they  had 
found  a  place  there,  had  they  been  omitted,  I 
thought  my  readers  might  be  displeased,  and 
think  that  I  had  not  done  right  in  omitting  them ; 
others  that  never  saw  the  pamphlet  from  whence 
I  informed  my  readers  I  had  transcribed  them, 
might  think  they  were  fabricated  by  me,  and 
that  I  had  from  conscious  guilt  left  them  out. 
Upon  the  whole,  I  thought  it  best  not  to  omit 
•them ;  so  that  they  are  to  be  found  in  abaut  twelve 
thousand  copies  of  the  memoirs  of  my  life. 

I  have  ever,  in  subsequent  editions,  informed 
my  readers  that  I  could  not  be  certain  as  to  their 
authenticity,  as  I  had  sent  to  the  author  and  re- 
quested a  sight  of  the  originals,  and  that  he  had 
returned  the  above  answer.  I  also  shewed  the 
pamphlet  from  whence  I  transcribed  them  to  all 
that  desired  to  see  it ;  and  I  still  keep  it  by  me. 
It  was  printed  for  J.  Luffman,  Alfred-buildings> 
Windmill-street,  Moorfields;  H.  D.  Symons,No. 
20  Paternoster-row  ;  J  Phillips,  No.  27  City- 
road  j  and  J  Cottle,  Bristol* 


1S5 

Supposing  Mr.  Wesley  to  be  the  author  of  the 
first  of  these  letters,  he  could  not  have  been  an 
honest  man,  or  sincere  in  what  he  professed  to 
believe,  as  I  ever  believed  him  to  be  until  I  saw 
that  letter.  Even  while  I  was  an  infidel  1  respect- 
ed him  so  much  for  these  qualities,  and  his  un- 
wearied disinterested  labours,  in  what  he  believed 
to  be  the  cause  of  God  and  the  good  of  mankind, 
that  it  always  gave  me  pleasure  to  see  him  pass 
by  my  shop.    After  I  had  seen  those,  letters  I  was 
often  in  doubt  as  to  his  real  character.     When  I 
reflected  on  his   primitive  manner  of  living,  hid 
sufferings,  his  unparalleled  labours  for  more  than 
sixty  years  together,  &c.  I  could  hardly  think  it 
possible  for  a  human  being  to  be  for  such  a  length 
oftime«,andin  such  a  manner,  only  acting  a  feign- 
ed part  ;  for  had  he  been  the  author  of  the  first 
letter,  he  must  have  been  a  hypocrite,  or  a  free- 
thinker, or  both. 

It  is  a  horrid  crime  to  misrepresent  and  black* 
en  any  person's  character. 

"  The  dark  villain  who  shall  aim 

"  To  blast  a  fair  and  spotless  name, 

i(  He  steals  a  precious  gem  away, 

u  Steals  what  both  Indies  can't  repay." 

It  was  still  worse  to  blacken  such  a  person  as 
every  pious  man  must  acknowledge  Mr.  Wesley 
to  have  been.  Notwithstanding  (what  I  conceive 
to  be)  all  his  enthusiasm  and  wrong  opinions,  he 
certainly  was  a  venerable  character  who  served 
his  God  and  the  King  faithfully. 

Being  much  dissatisfied  wit,h  myself  for  insert- 


ing  these  Letters  in  my  Life,  lest  by  this  means 
I  should  have  (although  unintentionally)  helped 
to  spread  abroad  a  false  opinion  of  a  good  man,  I 
sent  for  Dr.  Whitehead's  life  of  Mr.  J.  Wesley, 
and  by  the  Doctor's  account  of  his  death,  I  am 
fully  convinced  that  his  life  was  uniformly  consist- 
ent with  the  opinion  which  I  had  formed  of  his 
character  ;  and  whoever  will  take  the  trouble  to 
look  over  that  part  of  the  work  will,  with  me,  be 
convinced  that  those  two  letters  which  are  ascri- 
bed to  him,  were  fabricated  to  answer  some  base 
purpose. 

Tread  on  his  ashes  still,  ye  ruffians,  tread  ; 
By  venal  lies  defame  the  sacred  dead  ; 
With  Satan  still  your  feeble  malice  show, 
The  last  poor  efforts  of  a  vanquished  foe  ; 
T'  arraign  a  saint  deceased  profanely  dare, 
But  look  to  meet  him  at  the  last  great  bar, 
And  horribly  recant  your  hellish  slander  there 

Elegy  on  R.  Jones,  Esq. 

I  will  transcribe  the  account  of  his  death,  vol. 
ii.  page  454.  Tuesday,  March  1,  179  1,  ''  In  the 
forenoon  he  said,  \  I  will  get  up.'  While  they 
were  preparing  his  clothes,  he  broke  out  in  a 
manner  that  astonished  all  who  were  about  him, 
in  singing. 

"  Til  praise  my  Maker  while  I've  breath, 
And  when  my  voice  is  lost  in  death, 

Praise  shall  employ  my  nobler  powers  ; 
My  days  of  praise  shall  ne'er  be  past, 
While  life,  and  thought,  and  being  last, 

Or  immortality  endures  !" 


137 

u  Having  got  him  into  his  chair,  they  observed 
him  change  for  death.  But  he,  regardless  of  his 
dying  body,  said  with  a  weak  voice,  (  Lord,  Thou 
givest  strength  to  those  who  can  speak,  and  those 
who  cannot.  Speak,  Lord,  to  all  our  hearts,  and 
let  them  know  that  thou  loosest  tongues.'  He 
then  sung, 

"  To  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost, 
"  Who  sweetly  all  agree" — 

"  Here  his  voice  failed.  After  gasping  for 
breath,  he  said,  i  Now  we  have  done  all.'  He 
was  then  laid  on  the  bed,  from  whence  he  rose  no 
more.  After  resting  a  little,  he  called  to  those 
who  were  with  him,  i  To  pray  and  praise/  Soon 
after  he  said,  '  Let  me  be  buried  in  nothing  but 
what  is  woollen  ;  and  let  my  corpse  be  carried  in 
my  coffin,  into  the  chapel.'  And  again  called  upon 
them  to  '  pray  and  praise ;'  and  taking  each  by 
the  hand,  and  affectionately  saluting  them,  bade 
them  farewell.  Attempting  afterwards  to  say 
something,  which  they  could  not  understand,  he 
paused  a  little,  and  then,  with  all  the  remaining 
strength  he  had,  said,  i  The  best  of  all  is,  God 
is  with  us.'  Again,  lifting  his  hand,  he  repeated 
the  same  words  in  a  holy  triumph,  <  The  best  of 
all  is,  God  is  with  us.'  Something  being  given 
him  to  moisten  his  lips,  he  said,  '  It  will  not  do  j 
we  must  take  the  consequence.  Never  mind  the 
poor  carcase.'  Being  told  that  his  brother's  wi- 
dow was  come,  he  said,  ;  He  giveth  his  servants 
rest ;'  thanked  her  as  she  pressed  his  hand  ;  and 
affectionately  endeavoured  to  kiss  her.  His  lips 
M2 


133 


being  again  wet,  he  repeated  his  usual  grace  after 
a  meal ;  We  thank  thee,  O  Lord,  for  these  and 
all  thy  mercies :  bless  the  church  and  king ; 
grant  us  truth  and  peace,  through  Jesus  Christ 
our  Lord.'  After  some  pause,  he  said,  S  The 
clouds  drop  fatness.  The  Lord  is  with  us.  The 
God  of  Jacob  is  our  refuge.'  He  again  called  them 
to  prayer,  and  appeared  fervently  to  join  in  their 
petitions. 

"  Most  of  the  following  night  he  often  attempt- 
ed to  repeat  the  psaim  before  mentioned  ;  but 
could  only  get  out,  <  Til  praise.' — I'll  praise.'  On 
Wednesday  morning  his  end  drew  near.  Mr. 
Bradford,  his  old  and  faithful  friend,  who,  with 
the  affection  of  a  son,  had  attended  him  many 
years,  now  prayed  with  him  ;  and  the  last  word 
he  was  heard  to  articulate  was  i  farewell.' 

"  A  few  minutes  before  ten,  on  the  second  day 
of  March,  while  a  number  of  his  friends  were 
kneeling  round  his  bed,  died  Mr.  John  Wesley  y 
without  a  groan.  He  was  in  the  eighty-eighth 
year  of  his  age  ;  had  been  sixty-five  years  in  the 
ministry  ;  and  the  preceding  pages  will  be  a  last- 
ing memorial  of  his  uncommon  zeal,  diligence, 
and  usefulness  in  his  Master's  work,  for  more 
than  half  a  century.  His  death  was  an  admirable 
close  of  so  laborious  and  useful  a  life." 

In  reviewing  Mr.  Wesley's  character,  Di\ 
Whitehead  quotes  (page  469)  what  Dr.  Johnson 
said  of  him,  viz.  u  Mr.  Wesley's  conversation  is 
good  ;  he  talks  well  on  any  subject ;  I  could  con- 
verse with  him  all  night."  Page  472,  "  His  (Mr. 
Wesley's)  liberality  to  the  poor  knew  no  bounds, 
bu:  an  empty  pocket.     He  gave  away,  not  merely 


159 

a  certain  part  of  his  income,  but  all  he  had  ;  his 
own  wants  provided  for,  he  devoted  all  the  rest  to 
the  necessities  of  others.  He  entered  upon  this 
good  work  at  an  early  period  We  are  told  when 
he  had  thirty  pounds  a  year,  he  lived  on  twenty- 
eight,  and  gave  away  forty  shillings.  The  next 
year  receiving  sixty  pounds,  he  still  lived  en 
twenty-eight,  and  gave  away  two-and-thirty.  The 
third  he  received  ninety  pounds,  and  gave  away 
sixty-two.  The  fourth  year  he  received  one  hun- 
dred and  twenty  pounds,  still  he  lived  on  twenty- 
eight,  and  gave  to  the  poor  ninety-two."  In  this 
ratio  he  proceeded  during  the  rest  of  his  life  ;  and 
in  the  course  of  fifty  years,  it  has  been  supposed 
he  gave  away  between  twenty  and  thirty  thousand 
pounds. 

I  have  said  before  in  my  Memoirs,  that  he  left 
behind  him,  at  his  death,  4/.   10s. 

I  am, 

Dear  friend, 

You  re 


LETTER  XXII. 


With  eloquence  innate  his  tongue  was  arm'd : 

Tho'  harsh  the  precept,  yet  the  preacher  charm'd. 

For  letting  down  the  golden  chain  from  high, 

He  drew  his  audience  upward  to  the  sky. 

He  bore  his  great  commission  in  his  look  ; 

Yet  sweetly  temper'd  awe  ;  and  sofVned  all  he  spoke 


14U 


... 


He  preach'd  the  joys  of  heav'n,  and  pains  of  hell  ; 

And  warn'd  the  sinner  with  becoming  zeal  : 

But  on  eternal  mercy  lov'd  to  dwell. 

His  preaching*  much,  but  more  his  practice  wrought; 

(A  living  sermon  of  the  truths  he  taught  ;) 

For  this  by  rules  severe  his  life  he  squar'd, 

That  all  might  see  the  doctrines  which  they  heard  ; 

For  priests,  he  said,  are  patterns  for  the  rest : 

(The  gold  of  heav'n  bears  the  God  impress'd) 

But  when  the  precious  coin  is  kept  unclean, 

The  Sovereign's  image  is  no  longer  seen. 

If  they  be  foul,  on  whom  the  people  trust 

Well  may  the  baser  brass  contract  a  rust. 

Ever  at  hand  was  lie  without  request, 

To  serve  the  sick,  to  succour  the  distress'd  : 

Tempting  on  foot  alone,  without  affright 

The  dangers  of  a  dark  tempestuous  night. 

Such  was  the  saint  ;  who  shone  with  every  graod^ 

Inflecting,  Moses-like,  his  Maker's  face. 

God  saw  his  image  lively  was  express'd  ; 

And  his  new  work,  as  in  creation,  bless'd. 

DRYDEX'S  GOOD  TARSON. 


DEAR     FRIEND^ 

I  hope  you  will  excuse  me  if  I  give  you  one 
letter  more  on  Mr.  Wesley,  as  I  think  that  such 
an  extraordinary  person  must  be  interesting  to  ev- 
ery curious  observer  of  human  nature  ;  and  ha- 
ving been  misled  and  deceived  myself  to  the  pre- 
judice of  his  real  character,  I  am  the  more  inter- 
ested in  what  concerns  him. 

Page  477,  Dr  Whitehead  says,  "  I  shall  finish 
this  review  of  Mr.  Wesley's  character,  with  two  or 
three  sketches  of  it  drawn  up  by  different  per- 
sons." Now  that  Mr.  John  Wesley  has  finished 
his  course  upon  earth,  I  may  be  allowed  to  esti- 
mate his  character,  and  the  loss  the  world  ha* 


141 

sustained  by  his  death.  Upon  a  fair  account,  it 
appears  to  be  such,  as  not  only  annihilates  all  the 
reproach^  that  have  been  cast  upon  him  ;  but 
such  as  does  honour  to  mankind,  at  the  same  time 
that  it  reproaches  them.  His  natural  and  acqui- 
red abilities,  were  both  of  the  highest  rank.  His 
apprehension  was  lively  and  distinct ;  hi3  learn- 
ing extensive.  His  judgment,  though  not  infal- 
lible,-in  most  cases  excellent.  His  mind  was 
steadfast  and  resolved.  His  elocution  was  ready 
and  clear,  graceful  and  easy,  accurate  and  unaf- 
fected. As  a  wilier,  his  style, though  unstudied 
and  flowing  with  natural  ease,  yet  for  accuracy 
and  perspicuity,  was  such  as  may  vie  with  the  best 
writers  in  the  English  language.  Though  his 
temper  was  naturally  warm,  his  manners  were 
gentle,  simple  and  uniform  Never  were  such 
happy  talents  better  seconded  by  an  unrelenting 
perseverance  in  those  courses,  which  singular 
endowments,  and  his  zealous  love  to  the  interests 
of  mankind  marked  for  him.  His  constitution 
was  excellent ;  and  never  was  a  constitution  less 
abused,  less-spared,  or  more  excellently  applied, 
in  an  exact  subservience  to  the  faculties  of  his 
mind.  His  labours  and  studies  were  wonderful. 
The  latter  were  not  confined  to  theology  oniy,  but 
extended  to  every  subject  that  tended,  either  to 
the  improvement,  or  the  rational  entertainment  of 
the  mind. 

If  we  consider  the  reading  he  discovered  by  it- 
self, his  writing,  and  his  other  labours  by  them- 
selves, any  one  of  them  will  appear  sufficient  to 
have  kept  a  person  of  ordinary  application,  busy 
during  the  who1-  of  his  life.     In  short,  the  trail* 


142 

sactions  of  his  life  could  never  have  been  per- 
formed, without  the  utmost  exertion  of  two  quali-   i 
ties  ;  which  depended  not  upon  his  capacity,  but 
on  the  uniform  steadfastness  of  his  resolutions. 
These  were  inflexible  temperance,  and  unexam- 
pled economy  of  time.  In  these  he  was  a  pattern 
to  the  a^e  he  lived  in  ;  and  an  example,  to  what  a 
surprizing  extent  a  man  may  render  himself  use- 
ful in  his  generation,  by  temperance  and  punctu- 
ality.    His  friends  and  followers  have  no  reason 
to  be  ashamed  of  the   name  of  Methodist  he  has 
entailed  upon   them  :  as,  for  an   uninterrupted 
course  of  years,  he   has  given   the  world  an  in- 
stance of  the  possibility  of  living  without  wasting 
a  single  hour,  and  of  the  advantage  of  a  regular 
distribution  of  time,  in  discharging  the  important 
duties  and  purposes  of  life.     Few  ages  have  more 
needed  such  a  public  testimony  of  the  value  of 
time ;  and  perhaps  none  have  had  a  more  conspic- 
uous example  of  the  perfection,  to  which  the  im- 
provement of  it  may  be  carried. 

"  As  a  minister  his  labours  were  unparalleled, 
and  such  as  nothing  could  have  supported  him 
under,  but  the  warmest  zeal  for  the  doctrine  he 
taught,  and  for  the  eternal  interests  of  mankind. 
He  studied  to  be  gentle,  yet  vigilant  and  faithful 
towards  all.  He  possessed  himself  in  patience, 
and  preserved  himself  unprovoked,  nay,  even  un- 
ruffled in  the  midst  of  persecution,  reproach,  and 
all  manner  of  abuse,  both  to  his  person  and  name. 
But  let  his  works  praise  him.  He  now  enjoys 
the  fruits  of  his  labours,  and  that  praise  which  he 
fought,  not  of  men,  but  of  God. 


its 

"  To  finish  the  portrait.  Examine  the  tenor  oj 
his  life,  and  it  will  be  found  self-evidently  incon- 
sistent with  his  being  a  slave  to  any  one  passion  dr 
pursuit,  that  can  fix  a  blemish  on  his  character* 
Of  what  use  were  the  accumulations  of  wealth  to 
hira,  who,  through  his  whole  course,  never  al- 
lowed himself  t©  taste  the  repose  of  indolence,  or 
even  of  the  common  indulgence  in  the  use  of  the1 
necessaries  of  life.  Free  from  the  partiality  of 
any  party,  the  sketcher  of  this  excellent  charac- 
ter, with  a  friendly  tear,  pays  it  as  a  just  tribute  to 
the  memory  of  so  great  and  good  a  man,  who 
when  alive  was  his  friend. " 

Page  479,  Dr.  Whitehead  says,  "  The  follow- 
ing, so  far  as  it  goes,  is  an  accurate  and  beautiful 
picture  of  this  extraordinary  man." 

"  Very  lately,  I  had  an  opportunity,  for  some 
days  together,  of  observing  Mr.  Wesley  with  at- 
tention. I  endeavoured  to  consider  him,  not  so 
much  with  the  eye  of  a  friend,  as  with  the  impar- 
tiality of  a  philosopher  ;  and  I  must  declare,  every 
hour  I  spent  in  his  company,  afforded  me  fresh 
reasons  for  esteem  and  veneration.  So  fine  an 
old  man  I  never  saw.  The  happiness  of  his  mind, 
beamed  forth  in  his  countenance.  Every  look 
shewed  how  fully  he  enjoyed  *  The  gay  remen> 
brance  of  a  life  well  spent:'  and  wherever  h» 
went,  he  diffused  a  portion  of  his  own  felicity. 
Easy  and  affable  in  his  demeanour,  he  accommo- 
dated himself  to  every  sort  of  company,  and 
shewed  how  happily  the  most  finished  courtesy 
may  be  blended  with  the  most  perfect  piety.  In 
Ms  conversation j  we  might  be  at  a  loss  whether  to 


1 4.4 

admire  most  his  fine  classical  taste,  his  exten- 
sive knowledge  of  men  and  things,  or  his  over- 
flowing goodness  of  heart.  .  While  the  grave  and 
serious  were  charmed  with  his  wisdom,  his  sport- 
ive sailies  of  innocent  mirth  delighted  even  the 
young  and  thoughtless  ;  both  saw  in  his  uninter- 
rupted cheerfulness,  the  excellency  of  true  reli- 
gion. >Jo  cynical  remarks  on  the  levity  of  youth, 
embittered  his  disccurses :  no  applausive  retro- 
spect to  past  times,  marked  his  present  discon- 
tent, in  him,  even  old  age  appeared  delightful, 
like  an  evening  without  a  cloud  ;  and  it  was  im- 
possible to  observe  him  without  wishing  fervently, 
4  may  my  latter  end  be  like  his  !' 

"  I  find  myself  unequal  to  the  task  of  delineat- 
ing such  a  character.  What  I  have  said,  may  to 
some  appear  as  panegyric  ;  but  there  are  num- 
bers, and  those  of  taste  and  discernment  too,  who 
can  bear  witness  to  the  truth,  though  by  no  means 
to  the  perfectness  of  the  sketch  I  have  attempted. 
With  such  I  have  been  frequently  in  company  ; 
and  every  one  of  them,  lam  persuaded,  would 
subscribe  to  all  I  have  said.  For  my  own  part,  I 
never  was  so  happy  as  while  with  him,  and  scarce- 
ly ever  felt  more  poignant  regret  than  at  parting 
"with  him  ;  for  well  I  knew,  '  I  ne'er  should  look 
upon  his  like  again.' 

I  cannot  forbear  giving  a  part  of  another  por- 
trait which  Dr.  Whitehead  has  introduced  in  his 
work. 

"  His  indefatigable  zeal  in  the  discharge  of  his 
duty,  has  long  been  witnessed  by  the  world  ;  but, 
as  mankind  are  not  always  inclined  to  put  a  gene-, 
rous  construction  on  the  exertion  of  singular  ta- 


145 

jents,  his  motives  were  imputed  to  the  iove  of  po- 
pularity, ambition,  and  lucre.  It  now  appears  he 
was  actuated  by  a  disinterested  regard  to  the  irn> 
mortal  interest  of  mankind.  He  laboured,  and 
studied,  and  preached,  and  wrote,  to  propagate, 
what  he  believed  to  be  the  gospel  of  Christ.  The 
intervals  of  those  engagements  were  employed  in 
governing  and  regulating  the  concerns  of  his  nu- 
merous societies  ;  assisting  the  necessities,  solv- 
ing the  difficulties,  and  soothing  the  afflictions  of 
3iis  hearers.  He  observed  so  rigid  a  temperance, 
and  allowed  himself  so  little  repose,  that  he  seem- 
ed to  be  above  the  infirmities  of  nature,  and  to  act 
independently  cf  the  earthly  tenement  he  occu- 
pied. 

"  The  recital  of  the  occurrences  of  every  day 
of  his  life  would  be  the  greatest  encomium. 

"  Had  he  loved  wealth,  he  might  have  accu- 
mulated without  bounds.  Had  he  been  fond  of 
power*,  his  influence  would  have  been  worth  court- 
ing by  any  party.  I  do  not  say  he  was  without 
ambition  ;  h&  had  that  which  Christianity  need  not 
blush  at,  and  which  virtue  is  proud  to  confess.  I 
do  not  mean  that  which  is  grafted  on  splendour 
and  large  possessions  ;  but  that  which  commands 
the  hearts  and  affections,  the  homage  and  grati- 
tude, of  thousands.  For  him  they  felt  sentiments 
of  veneration,  only  inferior  to  those  they  pay  to 
heaven  :  to  him  they  looked  as  their  father,  their 
benefactor,  their  guide  to  glory  and  immortality  : 
for  him  they  fell  prostrate  before  God,  with  pray- 
ers and  tears,  to  spare  his  doom,  and  prolong  his 
stay.  Such  a  recompence  as  this  is  sufficient  to 
£epay  the  toils  of  the  longest  life,  SJjo,rt  of  tMfr 
N 


146 

greatness  is  contemptible  impotence.  Before  this, 
lofty  prelates  bow,  and  princes  hide  their  dimi- 
nished heads. 

"  His  zeal  was  not  a  transient  blaze,  but  a 
steady  and  constant  flame.  The  ardor  of  his  spi- 
rit was  neither  clamped  by  difficulty,  nor  subdued 
by  age.  This  was  ascribeol  by  himself,  to  the 
power  of  Divine  grace  ;  by  the  world  to  enthusi- 
asm.  Be  it  what  it  will,  it  is  what  philosophers 
must  envy,  and  infidels  respect  ;  it  is  that  which 
gives  energy  to  the  soul,  and  without  which  there 
can  be  no  greatness  or  heroism. 

"  Why  should  we  condemn  that  in  religion, 
which  we  applaud  in  every  other  profession  or 
pursuit  ?  He  had  a  vigour  and  elevation  of  mind, 
which  nothing  but  the  belief  of  the  Divine  favour 
and  presence  could  inspire.  This  threw  a  lustre 
round  his  infirmities,  changed  his  bed  of  sickness 
into  a  triumphal  car,  ana  made  his  exit  an  afiolhe- 
osis   rather  than  a  dissolution. 

"  He  was  qualified  in  every  branch  of  literature: 
lie  was  well  versed  in  the  learned  tongues,  in 
Metaphysics,  in  Oratory,  in  Logic,  in  Criticism, 
and  every  requisite  of  a  Christian  minister.  His 
style  was  nervous,  clear,  and  manly  ;  his  preach- 
ing was  pathetic  and  persuasive  ;  his  Journals  are 
artless  and  interesting  ;  and  his  compositions  and 
compilations  to  promote  knowledge  and  piety, 
were  almost  innumerable. 

"  I  do  not  say  he  was  without  faults,  or  above 
itiistakes  ;  but  they  were  lost  in  the  multitude  of 
his  excellencies  and  virtues. 

"  The  great  purpose  of  his  life  was  doing  good  : 
for  this  he  relinquished  all  honor  and  preferment ; 


147 

to  this  he  dedicated  all  the  powers  of  body  and 
mind  ;  at  all  times  and  in  all  places,  in  season  and 
out  of  season,  by  gentleness,  by  terror,  by  argu- 
ment, by  persuasion,  by  reason,  by  interest,  by 
every  motive  and  every  inducement,  he  strove 
with  unwearied  assiduity,  to  turn  men  from  the 
error  of  their  ways,  and  awaken  them  to  virtue  and 
religion.  To  the  bed  of  sickness,  or  the  couch  of 
prosperity  ;  to  the  prison,  the  hospital,  the  house 
of  mourning,  or  the  house  of  feasting,  wherever 
there  was  a  friend  to  serve,  or  a  soul  to  save,  he 
readily  repaired  ;  to  administer  assistance  or  ad- 
vice, reproof  or  consolation.  He  thought  no  office 
too  humiliating,  no  condescension  too  low,  no  un- 
dertaking too  arduous,  to  reclaim  the  meanest  of 
God's  offspring.  The  souls  of  all  men  were  e- 
qually  precious  in  his  sight,  and  the  value  of  an 
immortal  creature  beyond  all  estimation.  He 
penetrated  the  abodes  of  wretchedness  and  igno- 
rance, to  rescue  the  profligate  from  perdition ; 
and  he  communicated  the  light  of  life  to  those  who 
sat  in  darkness  and  in  the  shadow  ol  death.  He 
changed  the  outcasts  of  society,  into  useful  mem- 
bers ;  and  civilized  even  savages,  and  filied  those 
lips  with  prayer  and  praise,  that  had  been  accus- 
tomed only  to  oaths  and  imprecations.  But  as  the 
strongest  religious  impressions  are  apt  to  become 
languid  without  discipline  and  practice,  be  divided 
his  people  into  classes  and  bands,  according  to 
their  attainments.  He  appointed  frequent  meet- 
ings for  prayer  and  conversation,  where  they  gave 
an  account  of  their  experience,  their  hopes  and 
fears,  their  joys  and  troubles  ;  by  which  means 
they  were  united  to  each  other,  and  to  their  com- 


148 

mon  profession.  They  became  centihels  upon 
each  other's  conduct,  and  securities  for  each  other's 
character.  Thus  the  seeds  he  sowed  sprang  up 
and  flourished,  bearing  the  rich-  fruits  of  every 
grace  and  virtue.  Thus  he  governed  and  preserv- 
ed his  numerous  societies,  watching  their  improve- 
ment with  a  paternal  cam,  and  encouraged  them 
to  be  fuithful  to  the  end." 

Page  484.  "  The  figure  of  Mr.  Wesley  was  re- 
markable. His  stature  was  low  ;  his  habft  of  bo- 
dy In  every  ^period  of  life,  the  reverse  of  corpulent, 
and  expressive  of  strict  temperance,  and  continu- 
al exercise;  and  notwithstanding  his  small  size, 
his  step  was  firm,  and  his  appearance,  till  within 
a  few  years  of  his  death,  vigorous  and  muscular. 
His  face,  for  an  old  man,  was  one  of  the  finest  Ave 
have  seen.  A  clear,  smooth  forehead  ;  an  aqui- 
line nose,  an  eye  the  brightest  and  most  piercing 
that  can  be  conceived,  and  a  freshness  of  com- 
plexion scarcely  ever  to  be  found  at  his  years,  and 
impressive  of  the  most  perfect  health,  conspired 
to  render  him  a  vencrabie  and  interesting  figure. 
Few  have  seen  him  without  being  struck  with  his 
appearance  :  and  many,  who  had  been  greatly 
prejudiced  against  him,  have  been  known  to  change 
their  opinion*  the  moment  they  were  introduced 
into  his  presence.  In  his  countenance  and  de- 
meanor, there  was  a  cheerfulness  mingled  with 
"gravity  ;  a  sprightliness,  which  was  the  natural 
result  of  an  unusual  flow  of  spirits,  and  yet  was 
accompanied  with  every  mark  of  the  most  serene 
tranquility.     His  aspect,  particularly  his  profile, 


149 

had  a  strong  character  of  accuteness  and  penetra- 
tion. 

"  In  his  dress,  he  was  a  pattern  of  neatness  and 
simplicity.  A  narrow,  plaited  stock,  a  ccat  with  a 
small  upright  collar,  no  buckles  at  his  knees,  no 
silk  or  velvet  in  any  part  of  his  apparel,  and  a 
head  as  white  as  snow  gave  an  idea  of  something 
primitive  and  appostolic  ;  while  an  air  of  neatness 
and  cleanliness  was  diffused  over  his  whole  per- 
son." 

Perhaps  I  cannot  conclude  this  letter  better  than 
with  the  following  lines  : 


A  dying  saint  can  true  believers  mourn  ? 

Joyful  they  see  their  friend  to  heaven  return  : 

His  animating  words  their  souls  inspire, 

And  bear  them  upwards  on  his  car  of  lire  : 

His  looks,  when  language  fails,  new  life  impart , 

Heaven  in  his  looks  and  Jesus  in  his  heart  ; 

He  feels  the  happiness  that  cannot  fade, 

With  everlasting  joy  upon  his  head, 

Starts  from  the  flesh,  and  gains  his  native  skies  ; 

Glory  to  God  on  high  !—  the  Christian  dies  ! 

Dies  from  the  world,  and  quits  his  earthly  clod  : 

Dies,  and  receives  the  crown  by  Christ  bestow'd, 

Dies  into  all  the  life  and  plenitude  of  God 

Wesley. 


X  2 


l.)0. 
LETTER  XXIII. 

Lord  1  I  take  thee  at  thy  word, 

'  My  wickedness  I  mourn  ; 
1  Unto  thee,  my  bleeding"  Lord, 

'  However  late,  I  turn  : 
f  Yes  ;   I  yield,  I  yield  at  last, 

1  Listen  to  thy  speaking"  blood, 
'Me,  with  all  my  sins  I  ca»t 

'  On  my  atoning  God/ 

BEAR    FRIEND, 

I  H  WE  lately^  on  more  than  one  OGcask/ii, 
been  obliged  to  subscribe  to   the   truth  of  the 
words  of  Christ.     If  any  man  will  do  the  will  of 
my   Father,  he  shall  know  of  the  doctrine  which  I 
teach  whether  it  be  of  God.     I  am  more  than  ever 
convinced,  that  if  we  do  not  love  darkness  rather 
than  light,  this    light  will  shine  more  and  more  ofi 
our  miuds,  and  dispel  the  mists  and  darkness  in 
which  we  are  by  nature  and  sin  enveloped,  and 
that  the  perfect  day  will  at  last  burst  forth  on  our  • 
souls  ;  and  then  it  is   that  we   understand  the 
meaning  of  these  words,  In  my  light  ye  shall  see 
light.     I  have  before,  in  part,  informed  you,  that 
for  some  time  past  I  have  been  made  willing,  and 
very  desirous  of  not  only  knowing  the  will  of  God,  j 
but  also  of  doing  it.     And  by  the  grace  of  God  | 
I  have  also,  for  some  time,  been  able  to  live  so-  I 
berly,  righteously,  and  godly  in  this  sinful  world, 
regardless  of  the  sneers,  laughs  and  jokes  of  my 
thoughtless  acquaintance.     In  proportion  as  the  I 
concern  for  my  own  salvation  sunk  deeper  in  my  j 
•mind,  the  more  was  I  affected  in  reflecting  on  the  j 


15, 

condition  of  my  fellow  creatures  around  me  :  the 
following  lines  have  oftenbeen  mournfully  repeal- 
ed by  me : 

'  Ye  simple  souls  that  stray, 

*  Far  from  the  path  of  peace, 

'  (That  lonely,  unfrequented  way) 

*  To  life  and  happiness. 

*  Why  will  ye  folly  love, 

*  And  throng  the  downward  read, 

*  And  hate  the  wisdom  from  above ., 
6  And  mock  the  sons  of  God  !' 


About  twelve  months  since  I  sent  for  some 
cheap  religious  books,  viz.  The  whole  Duty  of 
Man,  the  Great  Importance  of  a  religious  life, 
Baxter's  Call  to  the  Unconverted,  Brown's  His- 
tory and  Doctrine  of  the  New' Testament,  Gil- 
pin's Lives  of  Truman,  Atkins  and  Baker,  and 
various  others  ;  some  of  which  I  gave  away, 
others  I  left  at  a  poor  man's  house  to  be  by  him 
lent  to  such  of  the  farmers,  or  poor  people,  as 
would  read  them.  And  I  had  reason  to  think 
that  some  little  good  was  done,  by  thus  giving 
them-  an  opportunity  of  reading  without  any  ex- 
pence. 

To  some  young  men  who  I  thought  would 
not  read  religious  books,  I  lent  Robinson  Cru- 
soe's Adventures,  and  some  other  moral  and  en- 
tertaining works,  in  order  to  employ  them  in  the 
Printer  evenings,  and  by  this  means  prevent  them 
from  spending  their  evenings  in  bad  company 
For  young  women  I  got  Susan  Gray,  The  Work* 
c,  &c.  I  also  got  many  of  a  cheap  edition 
of  Addison's  Evidences  of  the  Christian  Religion, 


152 

and  some  of  Watson's  Apology  for  the  Bible,  in 
Letters  to  T.  Paine  ;  these  I  put  into  the  hands  of 
freethinkers  ;  and  I  believe  they  made  some  im- 
pression on  their  minds.  I  now  saw  that  it  was 
my  duty,  when  opportunity  offered,  to  point  out 
the  dreadful  consequences  of  persisting  in  a  wick- 
ed course  of  life,  and  of  neglecting  eternal  con- 
cerns ;  and  I  perceived  that  those  reproofs,  and 
serious  observations,  made  some  little  alteration 
in  the  conduct  of  several. 

Last  summer,  being  in  Taunton,  at  the  house 
of  Mr.  J.  Smith,  brother  to  my  first  wife,  his  son 
brought  in  a  parcel  of  those  religious  tracts  which 
are  published  by  the  Religious  Tract  Society,  and 
sold  cheap  by  T.  Williams,  Stationer's-court, 
Ludgate-street,  London.  I  had  heard  before  that 
there  was  such  a  society  established,  but  knew 
not  where  their  tracts  could  be  had  ;  nor  did  I 
know  that  they  were  such  as  were  proper  to  be  put 
into  the  hands  of  the  poor  ;  so  that  I  was  much 
pleased  with  an  opportunity  of  procuring  some  of 
them.  I  took  one  of  each  of  more  than  thirty 
sorts  ;  and  when  I  got  home,  Mrs.  L.  and  I  read 
them  over  together,  in  order  to  know  if  they  were 
proper  to  be  dispersed  abroad,  and  whether  they 
%vere  calculated  to  do  good  to  such  as  shouM  read 
them.  In  going  through  these  pamphlets,  I  found 
that  although  the  compilers  had  carefully  avoided 
a  party  spirit,  and  appeared  to  be  influenced  by  a 
love  to  their  fellow-creatures,  and  a  desire  to  pro- 
mote the  interest  of  religion  in  general,  more 
than  that  of  any  sect  or  party  in  particular  ,  vet  I 
thought  that  in  several  of  them  inward  religion 
was  too  much  insisted  upon.  Although  I  looked 
*pon  myself  as  a  member  of  the  church  of  Eng- 


153 

,  yet  I  dkl  not  approve  of  that  tract  entitled, 
"  The  Good  Old  Way,  or  the  Religion  of  our 
Forefathers,  as  explained  in  the  Articles,  Liturgy, 
and  Homilies  of  the  Church  of  England,  briefly 
displaying  Man's  Ruinhy  Sin  ;  his  Recovery  ef- 
fected by  Christ ;  and  his  Gratitude,  expressed 
by  obedience."  Over  the  title  of  this  I  wrote, 
"  methodistical,"  and  would  not  send  for  one  of 
them  ;  on  several  others  1  wrote,  "  rather  me- 
thodistical,"  and  of  such  I  sent  but  for  a  few,  and 
those  I  intended  for  some  of  the  most  ignorant 
and  the  most  hardened  :  for  I  was  not  so  much 
prejudiced  against  the  Methodists  as  to  wish  my 
fellow-creatures  to  live  in  sin  andigrorance  rather 
than  become  Methodists,  but  could  have  been 
heartily  glad  to  have  seen  the  bulk  of  mankind 
turn  Methodists,  rather  than  continue  to  live  as 
though  they  were  not  accountable  creatures, — as 
though  there  was  no  future  state,  in  which  the 
wicked  will  be  punished,  and  the  righteous  re- 
warded ;  or,  hi  other  words,  where  every  man 
shall  receive  according  as  his  works  have  bce?i, 
whether  good  or  bad.  Still  I  was  not  thoroughly 
sensible  of  man's  utter  inability  to  do  any  thing  of 
himself  towards  his  acceptance  with  God ;  that 
salvation  is  by  grace,  and  justification  by  faith  in 
the  blood  of  Christ;  of  having  peace  with  God, 
and  an  assurance  of  his  pardoning  mercy  ;  and 
the  love  of  God  shed  abroad  in  our  hearts.  These 
were  subjects  that  did  not  much  please  me.  I 
did  not  at  this  time  deny  that  a  very  few  of  the* 
highly  favoured  people  of  God  might,  possibly, 
be  blessed  with  the  knowledge  of  their  being  re- 
conciled to  God ;  but  as  to  its  being  the  common 


154 


privilege  of  real  believers,  was  what  I  could  no 
believe. 

The  reading  of  those  tracts  increased  the  seri- 
ous impressions  which  had  been  made  before  on 
my  mind  ;  and  as  1  thought  that  most  of  them 
were,  upon  the  whole,  well  calculated  to  awaken 
my  poor  neighbours  in  the  villages  around,  to  a 
aense  of  their  wicked  way  of  life,  I  sent  for  about 
three  thousand  of  them,  and  many  of  them  I 
have  already  given  away  to  the  farmers,  labour- 
ers, soldiers,  &c.  The  more  I  employed  my 
time  and  money  in  attempts  to  be  serviceable  to 
the  souls  and  bodies  of  my  fellow  creatures,  the 
more  I  was  disposed  towards  religious  duties,  and 
enabled  to  enter  into  the  spirit  of  religion,  and  I 
wished  for  the  mind  that  was  in  Christ  with  some 
degree  of  ardor.  Mrs.  L.  also  partook  much  of 
the  same  disposition ;  so  that  no  books  now  pleased 
us  so  well  as  those  that  treated  of  divine  subjects. 
We  had,  some  time  before  this,  given  up  npvels, 
romances,  and  books  of  a  trifling  nature.  Now 
we  even  neglected  history,  voyages  and  travels, 
Sec.  not  that  we  thought  it  wrong  to  read  them, 
but  because  we  found  more  pleasure  and  satisfac- 
tion while  engaged  with  those  that  treated  of  di- 
vine truths  and  religious  duties*  We  were  sen- 
sible that  we  wanted  continually  to  be  put  in  mind 
of  what  we  owed  to  God  and  our  neighbour. 

In  a  former  ietter  I  told  you  that  I  sent  for  Mr. 
Wesley's  Life  ;  but  I  did  not  inform  you  of  some 
particulars  relating  to  that  circumstance.  About 
a  year  ago,  a  respectable  clergyman  frequently 
called  on  me,  and  I  told  him  that  I  was  sorry  that 


. 


155 

I  had  inserted  in  my  Memoirs  the  two  letters  that 
were  ascribed  to  Mr.  Wesley.  He  joined  with 
me  in  wishing  that  I  had  not  been  so  imposed 
upon.  Not  long  after  this  he  brought  from  Bris- 
tol Dr.  Whitehead's  Life  of  Mr.  Wesley,  2  vols. 
8  vo.  I  having  expressed  a  wish  to  see  in  what 
state  of  mind  Mr.  Wesley  died.  After  having  satis- 
fied myself  on  that  head,  I  returned  the  set  of 
books  as  I  had  no  intention  to  read  any  more  of 
the  work,  but  the  account  of  his  death.  In  Spring 
last,  I  wished  again  to  see  the  account  of  his 
death,  and  I  sent  to  the  Temple  of  the  Muses  for 
the  work ;  and  after  I  had  again  read  the  account 
of  his  death,  and  his  character,  as  drawn  by  seve- 
ral hands,  and  transcribed  them  as  in  two  former 
letters  you  have  seen,  I  put  by  the  set  of  books, 
having  no  inclination  to  be  made  acquainted  with 
his  ministerial  proceedings.  But  after  having 
read  such  a  number  of  tracts,  as  mentioned  above, 
and  various  volumes  in  divinity,  and  much  in  the 
bible,  I  again  took  up  Dr.  Whitehead's  Life  of 
Mr.  Wesley,  and  as  I  saw  by  the  title  page,  that 
it  contained  an  account  of  Mr.  Wesley's  ances- 
tors and  relations,  the  life  of  Mr.  Charles  Wesley, 
(whom  I  had  often  heard  preach,)  and  a  history  of 
Methodism,  I  requested  Mrs.  L.  to  help  me  in 
reading  it  through. 

To  describe  the  conflict,  and  the  different  com- 
motions which  passed  in  my  mind  while  we  were 
reading  this  excellent  work,  is  impossible.  I 
have  been  instructed,  delighted,  much  confound- 
ed, and  troubled.  That  divine  power  which  has 
been  felt  by  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  under 


i 


156 

the  preaching  of  Mr.  Wesley,  his  brother  Charles* 
and  others  of  his  preachers,  again  humbled  me 
in  the  dust.  I  sunk  down  at  the  feet  of  Christ, 
and  washed  them  with  my  tears.  Sorrow,  joy  and 
love,  were  sweetly  mingled  together  in  my  soul. 
I  once  more,  after  so  many  years,  knew  a  little 
of  what  these  lines  express  : 


*  The  godly  grief,  the  pleasing  smait:; 
1  The  meltings  of  a  broken  heart ; 

1  The  seeing  eye,  the  feeling  sense, 
1  The  mystic  joy  of  penitence. 

*  The  guiltless  shame,  the  sweet  distress, 

*  Th'  unutterable  tenderness, 

*  The  genuine,  meek  humility, 

5  The  wonder,  c  why  such  love  to  me  V 

c  The  overwhelming  power  of  saving  grace, 
c  The  sight  that  veils  the  seraph's  face, 

*  The  speechless  awe  that  dares  not  move, 

*  And  all  the  silent  heaven  of  love.' 


I  was  now  convinced  that  the  pardoning  love  of 
God, which  forty  years  since  was  first  manifested 
to  my  soul,  was  a  divine  reality,  and  not  the  ef- 
fect of  a  heated  imagination.  Thousands,  and 
tens  of  thousands,  who  are  gone  to  glory,  have 
borne  testimony  to  the  truth  of  this  doctrine;  and 
I  learn  that  there  are  still  tens  of  thousands  of 
Jiving  witnesses  to  the  same  glorious  truth)  and 
can  joyfully  sing 

Thy  mighty  name  salvation  is, 
And  keeps  my  happy  soul  above, 
Comfort  it  brings,  and  power  and  peace* 


\5T 

-And  everlasting  love  : 
To  mc  with  thy  dear  name  arc  given 
I'ardon,  and  holiness,  and  heaven. 

jesus,  my  all  in  all  thou  art, 
My  rest  in  toil,  my  ease  in  pain, 

The  mecl'cine  of  my  broken  heart  ; 
In  war  my  peace,  in  loss  my  gain, 

TVJy  smile  beneath  the  tyrant's  frown, 

In  shame  my  glory  and  my  crown. 


i  am, 

Dear  Friend, 

Your5?. 


LETTER  XXIV. 


O  ye  cold-hearted,  frozen,  formalists  ! 
On  such  a  theme,  'tis  impious  to  be  calm  ; 
Passion  is  reason,  transport  temper,  here. 
Shall  heav'n,  which  gave  us  ardor,  and  has  she \ 
Her  own  for  man  so  strongly,  not  disdain 
"What  smooth  emollients  in  theology 
Tlecumbent  virtue's  downy  doctors  preach, 
That  prose  of  piety,  a  lukewarm  praise  ! 
Rise  odours  sweet  from  incense  uninflam; \i  P 
Devotion,  when  lukewarm,  is  un devout  ; 
But  when  it  glows,  its  heat  is  struck  to  heav'n  ; 
To  human  hearts  the  golden  harps  are  strung  ; 
High  heav'n's  orchestra  chaunts  amen  to  man, 

Talk  £hey  .of  morals  ?  O,  thou  bleeding  kve  f 
The  grand  morality  is  love  of  thee. 
Thou  most  indulgent^  most  tremendous  pow'r  ! 
O 


158 

Still  more  tremendous  for  thy  wondrous  love  1 
That  arms,  with  awe  more  awful  thy  commands  ; 
And  foul  transgression  dips  in  sev'nfold  night  ; 
How  our  hearts  tremble  at  thy  love  immense  ! 
In  love  immense  inviolably  just  ! 
Thou,  rather  than  thy  justice  should  be  stain'd^ 
Didst  stain  the  cross  ,■  and  work  of  wonders  far 
The  greatest !  that  thy  dearest  far  might  bleed. 

YOUNG. 


DEAR    FRIEND, 

DIVINE  truths  now  rush'd  upon  me  like  a 
flood,  and  swept  awav  all  objections.     I 

I 

'  Feel  the  great  truths,  which  burst  the  tenfold  night 
'  Of  heathen  error,  with  a  golden  flood 
c  Of  endless  day  :  To  feel,  is  to  be  fir'd  j 
'  And  to  believe,  Lorenzo,  is  to  feei.' 


I  am  at  last  constrained  to  acknowledge,  that 
the  mighty  power  of  Gjpd  has  been  manifested 
from  the  beginning  amongst  the  Methodists  ;  and 
that  the  same  Almighty  arm  is  still  exerted  in 
overturning  the  kingdom  of  darkness.  Sinners 
are  still  brought  from  darkness  to  light ;  and  res- 
cued from  the  power  of  sin  and  Satan.  God  is 
still  adding  daily  to  his  church  such  as  shall  be 
saved.  It  is  built  on  a  rock,  the  Rock  of  Ages  ; 
nor  have  the  powers  of  earth  and  hell  been  able  to 
prevail  against  it. 

■  The  Lord  is  King,  and  earth  submits. 

'  Howe'er  impatient  of  his  sway  : 
•  Between  the  cherubim  he  sits, 

'  And  makes  his  restless  foes  obey. 


159 

1  All  power  is  to  our  Jesus  given  ; 

4  O'er  earth's  rebellious  sons  he  reigns  ; 
'  He  mildly  rules  the  hosts  of  heaven, 

*  And  holds  the  powers  of  hell  in  chains.' 

I  now  can  scarcely  think  it  possible  for  an  un- 
prejudiced person  to  read  the  Life  of  Mr.  Wes- 
ley, and  not  acknowledge  that  the  path  he  took, 
and  ever  after  continued  in,  was  pointed  out  by 
the  finder  of  God.  By  going  out  into  the  streets, 
highways  and  hedges,  and  calling  sinners  to  re- 
pentance, and  preaching  salvation  by  grace  to  a 
lost  world,  what  countless  numbers  have  thrown 
down  the  weapons  of  their  rebellion,  and  enlisted 
under  the  banner  of  the  cross.  Sinners  of  every 
description  have  been  compelled  to  come  in.  Old, 
daring,  hardened  sinners  have  been  made  humble 
and  gentle  as  lambs.  The  wise,  in  the  things  of 
this  world,  have  given  up  their  wisdom,  and  have 
become  reachable  as  little  children.  The  self- 
righteous  have  been  brought  trembling  to  the  foot 
of  the  cross,  where  they  gladly  accept  of  pardon 
and  salvation  as  the  free,  unmerited  gift  of  God 
through  Christ ;  and  feelingly  join  in  singing, 

I  the  chief  of  sinners  am  ; 
Yet  Jesus  died  for  me  ! 

I  am  astonished  that  no  more  of  those  good, 
well-meaning  ministers,  (for  many  such  trie  re 
are,  both  in  the  church  of  England  and  also 
amongst  the  Dissenters,)  who  have  a  concern  for 
the  welfare;  of  mankind,  and  would  gladly  turn  sin- 
ners from  the  error  of  their  ways,  but  yet  from 
year  to  year,  and  even  for  ten,  twenty,  thirty,  or 


160 

forty  years  together,  keep  en  preaching  without 
ever  converting  one  soul  to  God,  or  even  making 
any  serious  and  lasting  impressions  on  their  con- 
gregations, are  not  convinced  that  there  must  be 
something  materially  defective  in  their  ministra- 
tions. They  see  the  drunkard  still  gets  drunk  ; 
they  hear  the  swearer  blaspheme  as  much  as  ever; 
they  see  the  sribbath-day  still  profaned  ;  fornica- 
tion and  adultery  are  still  practised ;  the  unholy 
continues  unholy  still ,  parents  still  bring  up  their  . 
children  in  forgetfulness  of  their  Creator,  and  the 
things  of  another  world. 

In  short,  when  they  die,  they  leave  the  poor 
creatures  over  whom  they  were  overseers,  in  as 
bad,  or  worse  state  than  they  found  them* 

How  is  it  that  such  men  do  not  reflect,  and  see 
that  something  must  be  fatally  wrong  either  in  the 
matter  or  manner  of  their  preaching  ? 

These  gentlemen  will  occasionally  dwell  on  the 
inefficacy  of  moral  philosophy  to  reform  man- 
kind. They  will  point  out  the  deplorable  state 
which  the  heathen  world  was  in  before  Christ 
came.  They  will  clearly  prove  that  the  doctrines. 
taught  by  Socrates,  Aristotle,  Plato,  and  Epic- 
fcetus,  did  but  very  iiule  towards  the  reformation 
of  manners.  They  will  also,  sometimes,  treat  of 
the  wonderful  effects  produced  by  preach mg  of 
Christ  crucified  ;  and  some  ol  those  will  preach 
sermons,  where  the  name  of  Christ  is  not  once 
introduced.  They  seem  to  have  forgotten  him  : 
and  Plato's  Commonwealth,  Plutarch's  Morals, 
and  Tally's  ©fTices,  are  substituted  for  the  New 
Testament,     They  forget 


161 

— ><  The  gftat  truths  which  burst  the  tenfold  night 
*  Of  heathen  error,  with  a  golden  flood 
'  Of  endless  day.' 

Talk  they  of  morals  ?  Oh,  thou  bleeding  love  ! 
The  grand  morality  is  love  of  thee.  youncs. 

"  It  is  said,  that  when  Baxter  first  came  to  Kid- 
derminster, he  found  it  overrun  with  ignorance 
and  profaneness.  He  found  but  a  single  house  or 
two,  that  used  daily  family  prayfcr  in  a  whole 
street ;  and,  at  his  going  away,  but  one  family  or 
two  could  be  found,  in  some  streets,  that  conti- 
nued in  the  neglect  of  it.  And  on  the  Lord's  day, 
instead  of  the  open  profanation  to  which  they  had 
been  so  long'  accustomed,  a  person  in  passing 
through  the  town,  in  the  intervals  of  public  wor- 
ship, might  overhear  hundreds  of  families  engag- 
ed in  singing  psalms,  reading  the  scriptures,  or 
other  good  books,  or  such  sermons  as  they  had 
taken  down  on  hearing  them  delivered  from  the 
pulpit.  The  number  of  his  stated  communicants 
rose  to  six  hundred  ;  of  whom  he  himself  decla- 
red, there  were  not  twelve  concerning  whose  sin- 
cere piety  he  had  notj  reason  to  entertain  good 
hopes.  Blessed  be  God  the  religious  spirit  which 
was  thus  happily  introduced,  is  yet  to  be  traced 
in  the  town  and  neighbourhood,  in  some  degree." 

The  wonderful  effects  produced  by  the  preach- 
ing, and  other  labours  of  the  late  Mr.  Fletcher, 
at  Madeley,  are  pretty  well  known.  I  wish  every 
minister  of  the  gospel  would  read  his  Portrait  of 
St.  Paul,  as  published  by  Mr.  Gilpin.  It  is  an 
excellent  work.  The  various  traits  in  St.  Paul's 
character  are  drawn  in  a  masterly  manner  ;  and 
02 


iQj 


au- 


the  traits  that  Mr.  Gilpin  has  given  us  of  the 
thor,  shews  that  the  worth  of  immortal  souls  was 
deeply  impressed  on  his  heart,  He  took  heed  to 
himself  and  his  doctrine,  as  one  that  was  soon  to 
appear  before  the  great  Shepherd  and  Bishop  of 
souls,  to  give  an  account  of  himself  and  those 
committed  to  his  care. 

Such  as  will  read  that  work,  a,nd  Dr.  White- 
head's Life  of  Mr.  Wesley,  must  learn  that  God 
is  still  with  stich  as  faithfully  dispense  his  word, 
and  boldly  declare  that  there  is  no  other  name 
given  under  heaven  whereby  men  can  be  saved  * 
that  other  foundation  can  no  man  lay  than  that 
which  is  already  laid,  which  is  Jesus  Christ.  It 
was  by  thus  preaching  Christ,  that  three  thousand 
were  converted  by  one  sermon  preached  by  Peter. 

*  Jesus,  the  name  high  over  all 

'  In  bell,  or  earth,  or  sky  ! 
1  Ang-els  and  men  before  ii.  fall, 
'  And  devils  fear  and  %. 

*  Jesus,  the  name  to  sinners  de&r, 

1  The  name  to  sinners  given  ! 

*  It  scatters  all  their  guilty  fear  : 

1  It  turns  their  hell  to  heaven.* 

In  Mr,  Wesley's  Life  we  learn,  that  plain 
men,  without  any  pretension  to  learning-  or  great 
talents,  have,  by  preaching  Christ  crucified  from 
a  real  heart-felt  love  to  Christ,  and  to  their  fel- 
low-creatures, seen  their  labours  attended  with  the 
most  wonderful  effects  ;  sinners  have  been  first 
pricked  to  the  heart,  and  after  that  have  been  en- 
abled to  believe  to  the  salvation  of  their  sou!?.,  and 


163 

have  ever  after  lived  so  as  to  adorn  the  gospel  of 
Christ  in  all  things  ;  so  that  the  world  have  taken 
knowledge  of  them  that  they  had  been  with  Jesus. 
The  life  that  they  henceforth  lived  was  by  the 
faith  of  the  Son  of  God,  who  loved  thean,  and 
gave  himself  for  them,  to  redeem  them  from  * 
this  present  evil  world,  and  hereafter  from  the 
wrath  of  God,  which  is  ready  to  be  manifested 
against  all  ungodliness  and  unrighteousness  of 
men. 

1  Jesus  the  prisoner's  fetters  breaks, 
*  And  bruises  Satan's  heud  ; 
-    *  Power  into  strengthless  souls  it^peaks3 
'  And  life  into  the  dead. 

c  Kis  only  righteousness  they  shew, 

1  His  saving*  faith  proclaim  ; 
*  'Tis  all  their  business  here  below, 

1 To  cry,  Behold  the  Lamb  V 

Thus  does  God  by  the  foolishness  of  preaching 
save  them  that  believe.  By  this  "  foolish  preach- 
ing," as  it  is  called  by  the  world,  the  hearts  and 
lives  of  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  have 
been  totally  changed  ;  drunkards  became  sober  ; 
adulterers  became  chaste  ;  the  covetous  were 
made  liberal ;  the  extravagant,  careful  ;  and  the 
most  ignorant  were  made  wise  unto  salvation,  and 
able  to  give  a  rational  account  of  the  religion  of 
•  Christ ;  the  brutish  were  civilized  ;  the  passion- 
ate were  made  gentle ;  the  proud  were  made 
humble  and  meek ;  the  cruel  and  hard-hearted 
Were  made  merciful  and  tender-hearted  ;  the  un- 
just became  just  in  all  their  dealings ;  slanderers 
and  backbiters  were  made  partakers  of  that  love 


164 

that  thinketh  no  evil,  hopeth  all  things  belicveth 
all  things,  and  covereth  a  multitude  of  the  sins 
of  others;  the  selfish  churl  became  friendly; 
liars  spoke  the  truth  ;  blasphemers  became  ador- 
ers of  God  ;  thieves  provided  things  honest  in  the 
sight  of  all  men  ;  rebels  became  loyal,  and  pray- 
ed for  the  King  arid  all  in  .authority  ;  smugglers, 
and  their  encouragers,  learned  to  render  unt0 
Csesar  the  things  that  are  Cesar's  ;  sabbath-break- 
ers learned  to  spend  the  day  in  religious  worship 
and  pious  exercises  ;  the  idle  became  industri- 
ous. In  short,  like  the  apostles,  they  turned  the 
world  upside  down,  knowledge  arose  out  of  igno- 
rance, order  out  of  confusion,  light  out  of  dark- 
ness, happiness  out  of  misery,  heaven  out  of  hell. 

Who  can  reflect  on  these  wonderful  changes 
without  acknowledging  that  this  must  be  the 
work  of  God  ?  The  powers  of  earth  and  hell  have 
a  thousand  times  been  stirred  up  against  this  work 
in  vain.  The  gates  of  hell  have  not  been  able  to 
prevail  against  it.  It  has  increased,  is  increasing, 
and  God  grant  that  it  may  never  be  diminished, 
but  increase  a  thousand  fold. 

What  says  my  old  friend  to  all  this  ?  Will  you 
also  be  his  disciple  ?  Methinks  I  hear  you  say, 
Almost  thou  persuadest  me  to  be  a  Methodist. 


'■  O  that  the  world  might  taste  and  see 

'  The  riches  of  his  grace  ! 
e  The  arms  of  love  that  compass  me, 

*  Would  all  mankind  embrace. 


<  O  that  my  Jesu's  heavenly  charms 
4  Might  every  bosom  move  ! 


165 

;:ner3,  fly  into  the  arms 
1  Of  everlasting"  love.' 


I  am, 

Dear  friend, 

Yours. 


LETTER  XXV. 

*  The  weary  and  burthen'd,  the  reprobate  race 
'  Alt  wait  to  be  pardori'd,  thro'  Jesus's  grace. 

*  In  Jesu's  compassion  the  sick  find  a  cure  : 

1  And  gospel  salvation  is  preach' d  to  the  poor.' 

DEAR    FRIEND, 

HAVING  those  serious  views  of  sacred  sub- 
jects, I  was  more  than  ever  desirous  that  the  poor 
ignorant,  thoughtless  people  in  my  neighbour- 
hood should  be  awakened  and  made  sensible  of 
their  dreadful  state  ;  but  how  to  effect  this  I  was 
at  a  loss  :  for  in  giving  away  the  religious  tracts, 
I  found  that  some  of  the  farmers  and  their  chil- 
dren, and  also  three-fourths  of  the  poor, could 
not  rea'd  ;  that  some  of  the  farmers  hated  the 
clergy-  on  the  score  of  tythes  ;  so  that  some  of 
those  that  now  and  then  went  to  church  were  not 
likely  to  receive  benefit  from  those  they  hated. 
Others  of  them  would  neither  go  to  church  them- 
selves, nor  let  their  families  go.  Many  of  the 
poor  also  lived  in  the  total  neglect  of  all  public 
worship ;  and  spent  the  sabbath,  some  in  ale- 
houses,  others  at~pitch~aiu!-toss,  fives,  and  other 


166 

games  ;  some  in  gossiping  near  each  other's  cot- 
tages, sometimes  quarrelling,  generally  cursing, 
swearing,  talking  obscenely,  Sec.  others  employed 
that  day  in  going  from  one  farmer  to  another  to 
look  at  and  take  jobs  of  work. 

Such  as  do  go  to  church,  the  service  being  but 
once  in  the  day,  spend  the  other  part  of  the  day 
in  the  manner  mentioned  above.  Nor  do  the 
farmers  in  general  observe  the  sabbath  any  better 
than  the  poor ;  their  time  is  often  taken  up  in 
shewing  their  cattle,  sheep,  hogs,  Sec  to  butchers'; 
in  letting  jobs  of  work  ;  in  viewing  the  work  that 
has  been  clone  in  the  week,  or  ill  pointing  out 
what  is  to  be  done  the  week  ensuing  ;  in  visiting 
each  other,  and  making  merry,  kc.  Our  church- 
yard is  called  tne  market.  Here,  before  and  after 
the  service,  they  talk  over  the  prices  that  their 
goods  sold  for  in  the  week  past,  and  what  they  in- 
tend to  sell  for  the  next  week. 

I  was  also  affected  to  see  the  children  of  the 
poor  brought  up  in  ignorance  and  vice.  About 
four  years  since,  I  and  a  few  of  my  neighbours 
began  a  Sunday  Sand  day  school,  yet  we  found 
that  some  could  not  be  prevailed  upon  to  send 
their  children  to  it,  and  the  few  that  do  come,  are 
'to  corrupted  by  the  wicked  examples  which  are 
set  them  by  their  parents,  and  other  children,  that 
very  little  good  is  to  be  expected  from  that  quar- 
ter. 

After  much  serious  reflection  on  this  general 
disregard  of  religion,  and  moral  depravity,  I  re- 
solved, if  possible,  to  get  some  of  Mr.  Wesley's 
preachers  to  come  and  preach  to  them.  After 
having  been  separated  from  them  between  thirty 


167 

and  forty  years,  and  having  laughed  at  and  ridicu- 
led them,  you  may  suppose  that  my  feelings  on 
this  occasion  were  not  very  pleasant ;  but  I  knew 
that  they  had  learned  of  their  divine  Master  to  re- 
turn good  for  evil,  and  that  they  also  went  about 
doing  good  and  made  it  the  grand  business  of  their 
lives  to  warn  sinners  to  fly  from  ihe  wrath  to  come; 
so  that  at  last  I  went  to  Thornbury,  and  found  out 
a  gentleman  who  is  a  member  of  their  small  socie- 
ty there,  and  desired  that  the  next  preacher  that 
came  there  would  do  me  the  favour  of  calling  on 
me.  On  Saturday  the  1st  of  October,  1303,  Mr. 
Ward,  one  of  the  preachers  in  the  Dursley  cir- 
cuit, paid  me  a  visit.  To  this  excellent  young 
man  1  communicated  my  concern  for  the  stupid, 
poor  unhappy  wretches  around  me ;  and  although 
he  had  to  preach  three  times  the  next  day,  at 
nine  in  the  morning  and  at  half  past  five  in  the 
evening  at  Thornbury,  and  at  Elberton,  three  or 
four  miles  from  Thornbury,  at  two  ;  and  although 
his  health  is  so  much  impaired  by  preaching,  that 
it  was  lately  thought  that  he  never  would  be  able 
to  preach  more ;  yet  this  kind-hearted  young  man 
cheerfully  agreed  to,  and  did  preach  on  a  Com- 
mon called  Alveston  Down,  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
from  my  house,  at  eleven  o'clock,  to  about  sixty 
or  seventy  people,  small  and  great.  All  were 
still  and  attentive.  Mrs.  L.  conversed  with  some 
of  them  afterwards,  who  expressed  thankfulness 
for  having  heard  a  sermon  that  they  could  under- 
stand, as  they  said  that  they  could  net  understand 
the  sermons  at  church,  because  there  were  so 
many  fine  words  in  them.  Blessed  be  God  the 
poor  have  the  gospel  preached  unto  them,  in  a 


168 

way  that  they  can  understand,  in  a  thousand 
places  in  England.  And  here  also,  I  cannot  help 
remarking,  that  even  while  I  was  an  infidel,  I 
often  regretted  that  the  clergy  did  not  adapt  their, 
discourses  to  the  capacities  of  their  hearers  ;  as  I 
have  found  that  many  of  the  farmers," and  most 
of  the  poor,  know  very  little  of  what  they  have  e- 
ver  heard  preached  in  most  of  their  parish  church- 
es. I  am  very  confident  that  not  one  tenth  part  of 
country  congregations  are  able  to  understand 
what  they  hear  preached.  What  a  pity  it  is  that 
the  clergy,  particularly  such  as  live  in  the  country, 
do  n©t,  in  their  compositions,  imitate  the  fine, 
plain  language  of  the  common  prayer-book.  But 
to  return  from  this  digression. 

That  I  should  again  hear  a  Methodist  preacher 
under  a  hedge  was  matter  of  surprise  ;  but  what 
was  much  more  surprising,  the  preacher  gave 
notice  that  there  would  be  preaching  in  my  house 
on  the  evening  of  the  Friday  se'nnight  following. 
This  affair  has  been,  and  is  still,  the  subject  of 
conversation  for  many  miles  around.  Letters  to 
various  parts  of  England  and  Wales  have  spread 
this  extraordinary  news  nearly  through  the  king- 
dom. Perhaps  you  will  be  a  little  surprised  when 
I  inform  you,  that  Mrs.  L.  on  the  evening  before, 
went  about  three  miles  round  part  of  the  parish, 
calling  at  every  cottage  in  her  way,  to  inform 
them  that  a  sermon  would  be  preached  on  the 
Down  the  next  morning.  With  this  information 
the  poor  people  were  much  pleased,  and  promised 
her  to  be  there.  Mrs.  L.  also  attended  the  ser- 
mon. It  was  the  first  time  she  ever  heard  preach- 
ing out  of  a  church,     She  was?  however,  much 


169 

pleased  to  hear  such  an  excellent  discourse,  and 
one  so  well  adapted  to  the  understandings  of  the 
hearers.  Mr.  Ward,  the  preacher,  is  not  quite 
three  and  twenty  years  of  age,  and  if  he  conti- 
nues to  preach  as  much  as  he  has  done  for  three 
years  past,  I  fear  that  he  will  not  live  to  he  much 
older.  But  he  is  so  zealous  in  his  Master's  cause, 
so  intent  on  bringing  poor  lost  sinners  to  Christ, 
that  he  cares  but  little  about  his  body.  He  is 
one  of  Madeley,  where  Mr.  Fletcher  was  vicar  ; 
and  although  lie  was  not  converted  under  his 
preaching  yet  he  appears  to  partake  much  of  the 
same  spirit  that  actuated  that  extraordinary  ser- 
vant of  God  I  also  heard  Mr.  Ward  that  day  at 
nine  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and  at  half  past  five 
in  the  evening,  in  Mr.  Wesley's  chapci  in  Thorn- 
bury  All  his  sermons  were  excellent,  and  I 
found  it  Kvas  goal  to  he  there. 

I  believe  we  shoi  Id  have  had  a  much  larger  con- 
gregation on  the  Down,  had  not  about  five  hun- 
dred volunteers  been  at  chat  time  exerci^in^  about 
half  a  mile  from  where  Mr.  Ward  preached. 

To  break  the  Sabbath  seems  to  be  a  wrong  way 
to  conquer  our  enemies.  Our  churches  are  near- 
ly empty  at  those  times  ;  as  the  people  of  all  de- 
scriptions are  drawn  to  the  place  of  exercise. 
There,  cakes,  gingerbread,  &c.  are  hawked  about 
for  sale  ;  so  ih?t  it  appears  more  like  a  fair  day* 
than  the  Lcrd'sday. 

I  am, 

Dear  friend;  Your's. 


170 


LETTER  XXVI. 

Vain  Man  r  thy  wisdom  folly  ovirn, 
Lost  is  thy  reason's  feeble  ray. 

NOTWITHSTANDING  all  that  I  have 
said  against  the  Methodists  in  the  Memoirs  of  my 
Life,  an  impartial  observer  may  see,  even  from 
my  own  account,  that  those  people  were  of  very 
great  benefit  to  me.  The  very  great  alteration 
which  took  place  in  my  life  after  I  first  heard  them 
preach,  must  have  been  remarked.  Before  that 
time,  I  was  a  thoughtless,  careless  wicked  boy  : 
from  that  hour  I  was  totally  changed.  I  then  was 
anxious  to  learn  to  read,  and  it  was  not  long  be- 
fore I  constantly  read  ten  chapters  in  the  bible 
every  day.  I  also  read  and  learned  hymns,  and 
religious  tracts.  For  about  five  years  I  lived  a 
very  religious  life  ;  but  through  inexperience,  I 
was  overcome  and  carried  away  by  the  dissipated 
scenes  of  a  contested  election.  After  having  lived 
a  year  in  vice,  by  oply  once  hearing  Mr.  Wesley* 
preach,  I  was  effectually  prevailed  upon  to  re- 
nounce my  sinful  practices,  and  was  enabled  to 
live  in  the  fear  of  God.  About  twro  years  after,  I 
married  a  very  pious  woman  of  Mr.  Wesley's 
society  ;  and  in  the  midst  of  great  affliction, 
which  involved  us  in  great  poverty  also,  I  was 
not  only  contented,  but  frequently  experienced 
such  a  happiness  in  my  mind,  as  often  rose  even 
to  raptures.  We  had  been  married  only  about 
four  years,  when  this  excellent  woman  died,  in 


in 

the  full  assurance  of  hope.— Although  during 
my  wife's  illness  and  death,  I  lay  in  a  state  that 
was  thought  to  be  past  recovery,  yet  even  in  this 
situation  I  was  so  happy  as  even  to  astonish  some 
who  visited  me. 

The  readers  of  my  Life  may  also  recollect, 
that  the  Methodists  visited  me  and  my  wife  dur- 
ing this  great  affliction  :  and,  my  business  being 
at  a  stand,  (in  consequence  of  my  having  no  one 
to  attend  to  my  customers),  they  lent  me  money 
to  defray  the  expences  incurred  during  my  long 
illness,  and  locked  up  my  shop,  to  prevent  me 
from  being  plundered  of  all  I  had.  I  might  also 
mention  many  other  favours  that  I  received  from 
them,  which  made  me  say  in  my  Life,  that  they 
were  "  in  general  a  friendly,  honest-hearted,  sin- 
cere people." 

I  perhaps  ought  also  to  observe,  that  if  I  had 
never  heard  the  Methodists  preach,  in  all  proba- 
bility I  should  have  been  at  this  time  a  poor,  rag- 
ged, dirty  cobler,  peeping  out  from  under  a  bulk 
with  a  snuffy  nose  and  a  long  beard  ;  for  it  was 
by  their  preaching  that  I  was  taught  to  call  upon 
God  for  his  grace  to  enable  me  to  turn  from  my 
.vicious  course  of  life,  and  through  which  I  be- 
came a  real  christian.  It  was  by  their  means  al- 
so, that  I  was  excited  to  improve  a  little  my  intel- 
lectual faculties.  It  was  through  them  that  I  got  an 
amiable  helpmate  in  my  first  wife  ;  and  she  like- 
wise will  have  reason  to  all  eternity  to  remember 
the  Methodists  with  gratitude,  for  having  been 
the  instruments  of  her  conversion  ;  for  before 
she  heard  them  preach,  she  had  not  even  the  form 


172 

t>f  godliness,  much  less  the  power  of  it.  It  was 
also  through  them  that  I  got  thoshop  in  which  I 
first  set  up  for  a  bookseller.  It  is  very  likely, 
that  had  I  never  heard  these  people,  I  should  have 
been  now  an  old  drunken,  debauched  fellow,  like 
the  generality  of  journeymen  shoemakers  ;  and 
it  is  well  known,  that  many,  very  many  instances 
of  the  same  kind  might  be  adduced  ;  great  num- 
bers by  being  connected  with  them  have  learned 
to  be  industrious  and  frugal,  by  which  means  they 
have  been  enabled  to  live  in  credit,  to  provide 
something  for  their  children,  and  to  support  them- 
selves in  their  old  age. 

In  my  Memoirs,  although  I  have  acknowledged 
that  there  are  many  sensible  people  among  the 
Methodists,  yet  I  have  represented  many  of  them 
as  very  ignorant.  The  reason  why  I  thought 
and  represented  them  as  such,  is- very  evident; 
the  more  any  people  are  influenced  by  religion, 
the  more  do  they  live  as  strangers  and  pilgrims 
upon  the  earth,  the  more  they  have  respect  to  the 
recommence  of  reward,  the  more  do  they  see  him 
that  is  invisible.  The  more  they  possess  of  the 
life  of  God  in  the  sou!,  the  greater  is  their  confi- 
dence in  the  providence  of  God  over  their  tempo- 
ral concerns.  In  proportion  as  they  thus  live  and 
act,  the  more  ignorant  do  they  appear  to  the 
world  in  general,  and  to  infidels  in  particular.  So 
that  in  fact,  the  more  any  persons  increase  in  the 
filial  fear  of  the  Lord,  which,  if  Solomon  was  a 
judge,  is  real  wisdom,  the  more  they  increase  in 
that  wisdom  which  is  from  above  ;  the  more  they 
are  taught  of  God,  the  more  ignorant  and  foolish 
do  they  appear  to  infidels  and  men  of  the  world', 


173 

who  in  their  generation  are  wiser  than  the  chil- 
dren of  light. 

That  many  ignorant  people  have  from  the  be- 
ginning to  the  present  time,  joined  the  Method- 
ists, has  never  been  denied.  I  thank  thee,  O  Fa- 
ther, saith  Christ,  that  thou  hast  hid  these  things 
from  the  wise  and  firudent,  and  hast  revealed  them 
unto  babes,  even  so  Father,  for  so  it  seemed  good 
in  thy  sight.  You  see,  saith  St.  Paul,  your  callings 
brethren,  how  that  not  many  wise  men  (philoso- 
phers) after  the  fiesh  ;  not  many  mighty,  not  many 
noble,  are  called.  But  Ged  has  chosen  the  foolish 
things  of  the  world.  The  preaching  of  the  doc- 
trines of  the  cross  for  the  reformation  and  salva- 
tion of  mankind,  was  from  the. beginning  thought 
to  be  foolishness  to  the  philosophers  and  moral 
declaimers.  Where  is  the  wise  ?  or  the  philoso- 
phers that  read  lectures  of  morality  ?  Where  is 
the  scribe  ?  he  that  all  his  life  has  studied  the 
Mosaic  law  ?  Where  is  the  disputer  of  this  world  ? 
the  searcher  into  the  secrets  of  nature  ?  Hath  not 
God  shewn  that  all  their  wisdom  is  foolishness  and 
ineffectual  in  the  important  work  of  reforming 
mankind  ?  May  it  not  be  with  truth  asserted,  that 
honest  John  Nelson*,  the  Methodist  preacher, 
did,  by  preaching  Christ  crucified,  reform  more 
hardened  sinners,  than  were  ever  reformed  by  all 
the  moral  lectures  that  were  ever  read  to  man- 
kind ?  In  St.  Paul's  days  the  wise  were  confound- 
ed on  seeing  the  wonderful  effects  that  were  pro- 
duced by  the  preaching  of  a  few  plain  men.  whom 
they  termed  fools,  because  they  wanted  the  learn- 
ing of  the  age.  Mr.  Wesley  says, 
*  See  John  Nelson's  Journal. 
P  2 


174 

So  wretched  and  obscure, 

The  men  whom  ye  despise, 
So  foolish,  impotent  and  poor, 

Above  your  scorn  we  rise, 
We  through  the  Holy  Ghost, 

Can  witness  better  things, 
For  he  whose  blood  is  all  our  boast; 

Hath  made  us  priests  and  kings. 

That  Mr.  Wesley's  people  are  a  comparatively 
ignorant  people,  I  am  fully  convinced  is  not  true  ; 
that  the  reverse  is  the  fact  may  be  easily  shewn. 
I  will  begin  with  the  preachers,  I  suppose  all 
must  admit  that  Mr.  Wesley  was  a  sensible,  learn- 
ed man.  His  brother  Charles  also  possessed  con- 
siderable abilities,  and  was  likewise  a  learned 
man.  Some  of  their  preachers  are  also  learn- 
ed men;  others  of  them  have  great  natural  abi- 
lities ;  and  if  we  take  the  whole  body  of  preach- 
ers together,  they  will  be  found  to  be  well  versed 
in  the  theory  as  well  as  the  practical  part  of  Chris- 
tianity, as  revealed  in  the  New  Testament.  And 
although  there  is  reason  to  believe,  from  the  ef- 
fects produced  by  their  preaching,  that  they  are 
•assisted  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  yet  they  also  know 
that  it  is  their  duty  to  read  and  study  ;  and  this 
Me,  Wesley  strongly  enforced  and  insisted 
upon,  when  he  met  them  in  their  Conferences, 
as  appears  by  the  minutes  of  these  Conferences. 
And  as  those  preachers  have  experienced  the 
power  of  religion,  and  live  under  its  influence,  it 
must  be  allowed,  that  they  are  far  better  qualified 
to  preach  the  gospel  than  some  others  who  take 
up^n  them  that  sacred  office.  If  you  are  desir- 
ous to  see  more  on  the  subject  of  laymen  preach* 
in^*,  read  Mr.  Wesley's  farther  Appeal  to  Men 
of  Reason  and  Religion)  Part  3d.  and  his  excel- 


175 

tent  sermon  on  Heb.  v.  4.  And  vo  man  taketh  thin 
honour  to  himaetf,  but  he  that  is  called  of  God,  as 
ipa*  Aaron.  In  those  tracts  he  has  clearly  prov- 
ed, that  the  Jews,  the  primitive  church,  the 
church  of  England,  and  other  churches,  allowed 
men  to  preach  that  were  not  priests,  nor  in  holy 
orders. 

But  to  return,  As  to  the  members  in  general 
of  the  Methodist  Society,  I  never  saw  any  better 
informed  in  religious  matters.  They  are  better 
acquainted  with  the  bible,  and  with  the  nature 
and  design  cT  Christianity,  than  any  people  I 
know.  The  comparison  is  particularly  striking 
among  the  poorer  sort.  In  those  parts  of  the 
kingdom  Where  Methoilism  has  long  been  esta- 
blished, you  will  find  that  the  poorest  Methodist 
is  able  to  give  you  a  rational  and  scriptural  ac- 
count of  the  effects  of  the  grace  of  God  on  the 
soul ;  is  well  acquainted  with  the  nature  of  the 
threatening*  and  promises  contained  in  the  word 
of  God,  and  knows  what  he  has  to  hope  and  fear. 
I  think  it  is  Addison  who  observes,  that  religion 
has  a  very  great  tendency  to  enlarge  the  intellec- 
tual faculties  of  man  :  as  the  Methodists  do  nor 
waste  their  time  in  idleness  and  diversions,  they 
have  more  time  to  read  than  others  ;  they  also, 
hear  many  sermons  preached  by  men  of  various 
talents  amoDgst  themselves  ;  and  many  of  them 
strictly  attend  the  service  at  church  ;  they  also  as- 
sociate, converse  with,' and  improve  one  another. 
So  that  the  difference  in  degree  of  knowledge 
between  the  poor  Methodists  and  the  poor  in  ge- 
neral, is  very  remarkable.  Mr.  Addison  justly 
remarks,  that  "  The  most  illiterate  man  who  h 


176 

touched  with  devotion,  and  uses  frequent  exer- 
cises of  it,  contracts  a  certain  greatness  of  mind, 
mingled  with  a  noble  simplicity,  that  raises  him 
above  those  of  the  same  condition  ;  and  there  is 
an  indelible  mark  of  goodness  in  those  who  sin- 
cerely possess  it.  It  is  hardly  possible  it  should 
be  otherwise;  for  the  fervours  of  a  pious  mind 
•will  naturally  contract  such  an  earnestness  and 
attention  towards  a  better  Being,  as  will  make  the 
ordinary  passages  of  life  go  off  with  a  becoming 
indifference.  By  this  a  man  in  the  lowest  condi- 
tion will  not  appear  mean." — But  to  a  caimal  mind 
their  knowledge  of  the  things  of  God  appears  to 
be  foolishness^  and  the  greatest  realities  are  thought 
to  be  only  whims.  Spiritual  things  can  only  be 
discerned  by  one  that  is  spiritually  minded. 

'  The  thing's  unknown  to  feeble  sense. 
Unseen  by  reason's  glimmering'  ray, 

With  strong  commanding  evidence, 
Their  heavenly  origin  display. 

■  Faith  lends  his  realizing  light, 

The  clouds  disperse,  the  shadows  fly  ; 

Th'  Invisible  appears  in  sight, 
And  God  is  seen  by  mortal  eye.' 

lam, 

Dear  Friend, 

Your's. 


17/ 


LETTER    XXVIL 


i.  Lord,  with  trembling  I  confess, 
A  gracious  soul  may  fall  fi  om  grace  ! 
The  salt  may  lose  its  seasoning-  power, 
And  never,  never  find  it  more. 

c  Lest  that  my  fearful  case  should  be., 
Each  momeut  knit  my  soul  to  thee  .- 
And  lead  me  to  the  mount  above, 
Thro"  the  low  vale  of  humble  love.' 


BEAR    FRIEKD, 

WHEN  I  look  into  my  Memoirs,  I  shudder 
to  see  what  i  have  done.  I  have  wantonly  treated 
of,  and  sported  with  the  most  solemn  and  pre- 
cious truths  of  the  gospel  Q  God,  lay  not  this 
sin  to  my  charge  1  Other  infidels  have  obscured, 
as  much  as  they  were  able,  the  external  evi- 
dences of  Christianity  3  but  1  made  a  thrust  at 
its  vital  part.  There  are  many  thousands  who 
never  had  time  or  opportunity,,  or  who  have  been, 
somehow  or  other,  prevented  from  invests  i  g; 
the  external  evidences  of  the  Christian  religion, 
who  yet  are  as  much  assured  of  its  divine  autho- 
rity as  they  are  of  their  own  existence.  They 
know  that  Christ  is  come  in  the  flesh  ;  that  they  are 
born  of  God  ;  that  they  are  passed  from  death  unto 
life  ;  that  they  were  once  blind)  that  now  they  see  ; 
that  old  things  are  done  away,  and  all  things  are 
become  new  ;  that  they  were  once  miserable,  but 
are  now  happy  ;  they  once  were  without  God  ini 
the  world,  but  now  by  that  faith  which  is  the  ope- 
ration of  God,  the  substance  qf  things  hoped  for } 


1/8 

the  evidence  of  things  not  seen,  by  this  fireciou 
faith,  they  can  say  my  Father  and  ?ny  God.  They 
can  call  Christ  Lord  by  the  Holy  Ghost.  They 
know  what  is  the  communion  of  saints,  and  often 
sit  together  in  heavenly  filaces  in  Christ  Jesus,  and 
are  Jilted  with  the  fulness  of  God  ;  and  they  know 
that  when  this  earthly  tabernacle  is  dissolved,  they 
have  a  building,  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the 
heavens. 

It  was  this  internal  evidence  which  made  the 
martyrs  triumph  in  the  midst  of  the  flames  ;  and 
this  evidence,  neither  the  pretended  friends,  nor 
the  open  enemies  of  Christianity,  will  ever  be  able 
to  destroy.  Christianity,  without  this,  is  a  body 
without  a  soul.  And  all  those  who  endeavour  to 
invalidate  this  internal  evidence,  are  blind,  know- 
ing nothing  ;  are  false  s/iies  that  bring  an  evil  re- 
port of  the  good  land  ;  they  are  in  the  gall  of  bit- 
terness and  bonds  of  iniquity,  and  have  neither  part 
nor  lot  in  the  matter  ;  and,  sooner  or  later,  they 
will  be  found  to  be  fighters  against  God. 

Jesus  vouchsafe  a  pitying  ray, 

lie  thou  my  Guide,  be  thou  my  way, 

To  glorious  happiness  ! 
Ah  !    write  the  pardon  on  my  heart, 
And  whensoever  I  hence  depart, 

Let  me  depart  in  peace. 

I  suppose  you  are  ready  to  ask,  how  it  was 
possible  for  me,  who  once  was  enlightened,  and 
had  tasted  the  good  word  of  God,  and  the  powers 
of  the  world  to  come  ;  how  was  it  possible  for  me 
to  sink  into  ignorance,  blindness  and  infidelity  ? 
Ah,  my  friend,  nothing  i3  more  easy.     As  a  real 


i79 

christian  is  one  that  has  been  called,  out  of  darkness 
into  mai-vcllous  light  ;  so,  as  long  as  his  eye  is  sin- 
gle, his  soul  is  full  of  light,  and  he  walks  in  the  light  y 
as  God  is  in  the  light,  and  in  him  is  no  darkness  at 
all ;  yet,  if  he  turn  back  again  into  Egypt,  he  will 
again  be  involved  in  Egyptian  darkness.  The 
sun  of  righteousness  will  no  longer  shine  upon 
him.  Adam,  as  soon  as  he  disobeyed  his  God,  at 
once  lost  his  favour  and  likeness,  and  sunk  into  a 
state  of  darkness  and  ignorance,  and  attempted 
to  hide  himself  from  the  all-seeing  eye  among  the 
trees.  And  when  a  renewed  soul  falls  again  to  a 
course  of  sin,  he  is  at  last  smitten  with  blindness, 
and  he  gro/ics  but  cannot  find  the  door.  The  can* 
die  sf the  JLord  no  more  shines  upon  his  head.  They 
are  blind,  and  cannot  see  afar  off  ;  and  have  forgot 
that  they  were  purged  from  their  sins.  They  will 
curse,  and  swear  that  they  know  not  the  man.  As 
they  did  not  like  to  retain  the  knowledge  of  God,  he 
gives  them  over  to  blindness  and  hardness  of  heart. 
They  have  quenched  the  Spirit,  and  done  despite 
unto  it.  They  no  longer  know  the  things  which 
belong  to  their  peace,  they  being  hid  from  their 
eyes.  They  have  eyes  that  see  not^  and  ears  that 
hear  not. 

This  evidence  I  have  attempted  to  invalidate. 
God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner  ! 

Jesus,  let  thy  pitying1  eve 

Call  back  a  wandering  sheep  ; 
False  to  thee,  like  Peter,  I 

Would  fain  like  Peter  weep, 

Let  me  be  by  grace  restored  t 
On  me  be  all  long-suffering;  shewn- 


120 

Turn,  and  Icokupen  me,  Lord, 
And  break,  my  heart  of  stone. 

I  have,  in  my  '  Life,'  said  that  the  Methodists 
have  driven  people  out  of  their  mind,  made  them 
commit  suicide,  Sec.  But  I  solemnly  declare  that 
I  never  ktzenvan  instance  of  the  kind  from  my  own 
personal  knowledge,  I  fc&ve  seen  it  asserted  in 
pamphlets;  wrote  against  t!  cm,  and  also  in  news- 
papers, and  I  have  been  toid  that  such  things  have- 
happened  ;  and  upon  such  kind  of  evidence  I 
have  shamefully  followed  others  in  relating  those 
stories  v 

In  finding  tank  with  the  Ivlcthodist  preachers 
for  endeavouring  to  awaken  ail  such  as  were  never 
converted,  eveny  one  may  see  that  in  blaming 
them  I  also  blamed  the  prophets,  Christ  and  his 
apostles,  and  also  the  church  of  England,  and 
ynost  other  reformed  churches.  The  Methodist 
preachers  often  tell  theii  hearers,  in  the  words  of 
our  church,  in  her  9th  article,  That  every  man  is 
Jar  gone  from  original  righteousness  ;  is  of  his  own 
nature  inclined  to  evil  so  that  thefesh  lusteth  always 
contrary  to  the  Sfiirit  ;  and  the rj ore  every  per soji 
born  into  the  world  deserveth  God's  <ivrath  and 
damnation.  What  the  Methodists  mean  hy  con- 
viction for  sin,  is  the  same  as  our  church  has  set 
down  in  the  communion  service  :  We  do  earnestly 
re/ient,  and  arc  heartily  sorry  for  these  our  inisdo- 
ings  ?  the  remembrance  of  them  is  grievous  unit 
us  :  and  the  burthen  is  intolerable  Have  mercy 
ufion  us,  have  mercy  ii/wn  us,  most  merciful  Fa 
ther  ;  for  'hy  ^lon  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ's  sake, for; 
give  us  all  that  i$/ia§t;  and  grant  that  toe  may  cvt) 


181 

hereafter  serve  and  frfease  thee  in  newness  of  tifc. 
That  which  displeases  the  infidels  and  pretended 
christians  on  this  head  is,  the  Methodists  insist  on 
the  necessity  of  feeling  what  wer^f,  lest  we  be 
found  solemn  mockers  of  God. 

In  the  scripture  this  conviction  is  called,  being 
pricked  to  the  heart,  under  which  sinners  are  con- 
strained to  inquire,  What  shall  we  do  to  be  saved  ? 
To  cry,  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner,  &c.  And 
under  this  conviction  David  roaredyb?*  the  disquie- 
tude of  his  soul,  and  watered  his  bed  with  his  tears, 
Jeremiah  saith,  Be  not  a  terror  to  me.  In  an- 
other place,  God  says,  1  will  make  thee  a  terror  to 
thyself  Solomon  says,  The  spirit  of  a  man  may 
sustain  his  (bodily)  infirmities ;  but  a  wounded  spirit 
*who  can  bear.  This  is  what  is  intended  by  a  con- 
trite spirit,  a  broken  heart.  &c. 

So  that  what  I  have  pointed  out  as  a  dreadful 
state  is,  I  presume,  quite  scriptural ;  and  must 
be  more  or  less  felt  by  every  person  before  he 
will  see  the  necessity  of  coming  to  Christ  for  par- 
don and  salvation  ;  before  he  can  be  born  again,  or 
converted ;  or  before  he  can  be  justified,  as  St. 
Paul  says,  and  as  our  church  says  also,  before  he 
ever  can  be  changed  by  the  inspiration  of  his  Holy 
Sjiirit ;  before  lie  can  perfectly  love  God,  or  wor- 
thily magnify  his  holy  name. 

But  as  an  infidel  I  cared  for  none  of  these 
things,  and  so  ridiculed  them  all.  The  remem- 
brance of  which  has  in  reality  been  to  me  griev- 
ous, and  the  burthen  intolerable  !  May  Almighty 
God  make  all  the  inventors,  and  other  wanton  re- 

Q 


182 

fetters  af  such  stories,  feel,  before  it  is  too  late, 
the  same  sorrow  and  sincere  repentance  !  and 
may  they  also  obtain  mercy  through  the  all-aton- 
ing blood  of  Christ,  who  forgiveth  all  manner  of 
sins  and  blasfihe?nies-  of  such  as  truly  repent  and 
imfeignedly  believe  his  holy  gospel, 

'  After  all  that  I  have  done, 

Saviour,  art  thou  pacify'd  ? 
"Whither  shall  my  viletiess  run  ? 

Hide  me,  earth,  the  sinner  hide  f 
Let  me  sink  into  the  dust, 

Full  of  holy  shame  adore  ! 
Jesus  Christ,  the  good,  the  just, 

Bids  me  go  and  sin  no  more. 

'  O,  confirm  the  gracious  word, 

Jesus,  Son  of  God  and  Man  f 
Let  me  never  grieve  thee,  Lord, 

Never  turn*  to  sin  again  ! 
Till  my  all  in  all  thou  art  ! 

Till  thou  bring  thy  nature  in, 
Keep  this  feeble,  trembling  heart, 

SaVe  me,  save  me,  Lord,  from  sin  V 

I  am, 

Dear  friend, 

Your? 


183 


LETTER  XXVIIL 

*  Let  us  join,  ('tis  God  commands,) 
Let  us  join  our  hearts  and  hands  : 
Help  to  gain  our  calling's  hope, 
Build  we  each  the  other  up.' 

DEAR    FRIEND, 

I  HAVE  represented  some  of  the  Method- 
ists as  troublesome  obtruders  on  the  sick  and  dy- 
ing ;  so  that  I  think  I  ought  to  set  this  matter  in 
a  clear  light-. 

Mr.  Wesley's  people  think  that  they  cannot  love 
their  neighbour  as  themselves,  without  endeavour- 
ing to  find  out  every  possible  way  by  which  they 
may  be  serviceable  to  the  souls  and  bodies  of  their 
fellow  creatures.  In  London  and  Bristol,  and  I 
believe  in  other  places,  some  of  their  society  who 
are  able  to  pray,  instruct,  and  exhort,  endeavour 
to  find  out  poor  distressed  objects  who  are  confin- 
ed to  their  beds  by  diseases  in  poor-houses,  pri- 
sons, lodging  houses,  dirty  lanes,  alleys,  &c 
Those  poor  forsaken  outcasts  of  society  they  in- 
struct, exhort,  pray  with,  &c.  To  objects  most 
in  want  they  give  money.  Perhaps  there  cannot 
be  any  labour  of  love  more  praiseworthy,  or  more 
deserving  of  encouragement,  as  great  numbers  of 
such  poor  destitute  wretches  may  at  all  times  be 
found  languishing  in  a  forlorn  state,  and  generally 
die  without  anyone  caring  any  thing  about  them  : 
for  none  but  such  as  are  filled  with  the  love  of  God 
and  man  will  ever  go  into  such  loathsome  places 


184 

and  habitations.  I  formerly  accompanied  some 
of  those  loving  people  in  this  work  of  mercy,  and 
have  witnessed  their  cheerful  performance  of  this 
great  duty  ;  which  to  a  poor,  selfish,  unregene- 
rate  heart  would  be  intolerable.  But  no  labour, 
however  disagreeable  or  hazardous  to  health  or 
life,  is  too  much  to  be  performed  by  such  as  are 
thoroughly  impressed  with  the  worth  of  an  im- 
mortal soul ;  who  are  persuaded  that  Christ  tast- 
ed death  for  every  man,  and  would  that  every  man 
should  come  to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth  and  be 
saved.  While  they  were  employed  in  this  solemn 
work,  if  they  could  discover  any  poor  creature 
that  gave  them  reason  to  hope  for  his  conversion, 
O,  what  love  and  joy  warmed  every  heart !  The 
devil  knew  that  Job  did  not  serve  God  for  naught '. 
Christ  still  pays  his  servants  well  for  every  thing 
they  do  in  his  name  and  for  his  sake.  Those  peo- 
ple, when  employed  in  such  work  as  this,  which 
to  flesh  and  blood  is  not  only  irksome  but  shock- 
ing, yet  would  not  have  exchanged  the  pleasure 
which  they  found  in  it  for  any  earthly  enjoyment. 
To  return  to  the  subject. 

It  is  not  only  in  cities  and  large  towns  that  the 
poor  die  un visited  ;  but  also  in  many  country 
towns,  villages,  Sec  In  the  places  where  I  have 
lived  Mi  the  former  part  of  my  life,  and  where  I 
have  had  a  country-house,  or  in  the  various  vil- 
lages round  my  present  residence,  I  do  not  recol- 
lect arvy  poor  person  who  had  sent  for  a  clergy- 
man on  such  an  occasion,  or  of  any  clergyman 
that  went  ivnsent  for.     Those  poor  creatures  ee~ 


1*5 

HePaHy  die  as  stupid  and  careless  as  they  have 
lived,  When  any  one  of  them  has  any  concern 
about  his  immortal  part,  he  is  afraid  to  give  trou- 
ble to  the  vicar  or  curate,  and  ashamed  to  let  them 
witness  his  poverty  and  rags.  Christ  well  knew 
the  deplorable  state  of  such  poor  creatures,  and 
has  graciously  promised  to  reward  all  such  as  ex- 
plore their  dreary  abodes.  But  as  an  infidel,  I 
thought  all  talk  about  heaven  and  hell,  praying 
for  them,  Sec.  useless  and  terrifying  ;  for  which 
reasoo  I  exclaimed  against  such  as  performed 
those  kind  offices.  And  I  recollect  that  when, 
about  twenty  years  since,  I  was  thought  to  be 
near  death,  I  was  so  hardened  as  not  to  suffer  any 
clergyman  to  come  near  me,  or  any  other  religious 
person. 

Weary  cf  wandering  from  my  God, 

And  now  made  willing  to  return, 
I  hear,  and  bow  me  to  the  rod  ; 

For  thee,  not  without  hope,  I  mourn  : 
I  have  an  advocate  above, 
A  friend  before  the  throne  of  love. 

O,  Jesus,  full  of  truth  and  grace,  ' 

More  full  of  grace  than  I  of  sin 
Yet  once  again  I  seek  thy  face, 

Open  thy  arms  -and  take  me  in  : 
And  freely  my  backslidings  heal, 
And  love  the  "faithless  sinner  still. 

That  an  avowed  unbeliever  should  refuse  to  ac- 
cept any  spiritual  advice,  and  not  suffer  any  pray- 
ers to  be  put  up  for  him  when  about  to  quit  the 
world  is  not  very  surprising.  But  I  am  persuad- 
ed that  there  have  been,  and  still  are,  very  many 
Q2 


who  call  themselves  christians* who urhen  thought 

to  be  on  the  borders  of  the  invisible  world,  would 
not  have  one  word  said  to  them  of  their  real  state, 
much  less  would  they  bear  any  religious  advice, 
or  join  in  prayer.  And  yet  perhaps  those  very 
people  were  such  as  put  off  repentance  to  a  sick 
or  death-bed,  not  considering  that  the  longer  they 
continue  in  sin  the  more  callous  they  are  made* 
and  that  the  consciences  of  many  are  at  last  seared 
as  it  were  vjith  a  hoi  iron, 

*  Dead  already,  dead  within, 

Spiritually  dead  In  sin  ; 

Dead  to  God  while  here  they  breathe, 

Sfaftfing  after  second  death, 

They  will  still  in  sin  remain, 

Greedy  of  eternal  pain.' 

You  no  doubt  recollect  that  I  have  also  ridicul- 
ed the  private  meetings  established  by  Mr.  Wes- 
ley among  his  people.  Nor  is  it  at  all  surprising 
that  a  freethinker  should  hate  every  means  of 
grace,  particularly  such  as  have  so  great  a  ten- 
dency to  keep  the  children  of  God  together,  and 
to  promote  all  inward  and  outward  holiness.  I 
will  transcribe  Mr.  Wesley's  account  of  the  origin 
of  his  classes  in  London,  March  1742.  "  lap- 
pointed,  (says  Mr.  Wesley)  several  earnest,  sen- 
sible men  to  meet  me,  to  whom  I  shewed  the 
great  difficulty  I  had  long  found  of  knowing  the 
people  who  desired  to  bs  under  my  care.  After 
m\*ch  discourse,  they  all  agreed  there  could  be 
no  better  way  to  come  to  a  sure  knowledge  of 
each  person,  than  to  divide  them  into  classes,  im- 


157 

der  the  inspection  of  those  in  whom  I  could  con-' 
fide.  This  was  the  origin  of  classes  in  London, 
for  which  I  can  never  sufficiently  praise  God,  the 
unspeakable  usefulness  of  the  institution  having 
ever  since  been  more  and  more  manifest.'*'  The 
person  appointed  to  watch  these  little  classes  was 
called  the  leader  of  that  class  to  which  he  receiv- 
ed his  appointment.  Mr.  Wesley  called  the  lead' 
ers  together,  and  desired  that  each  would  make  a 
particular  inquiry  into  the  behaviour  of  those  he 
saw  weekly.  They  did  so  ;  and  many  disorderly 
walkers  were  detected.  Some  were  turned  from 
the  evil  of  their  Ways,  and  some  put  out  of  the 
society.  And  the  rest  saw  it  with  fear,  and  re- 
joiced in  God  with  reverence.  At  first  the  leaders 
visited  each  person  at  their  own  house  ;  but  this 
was  soon  found  inexpedient.  It  required  more 
time  than  the  leaders  had  to  spare.  Many  per- 
sons lived  with  masters,  mistresses,  or  relations, 
where  they  could  not  be  visited.  And  where 
misunderstandings  had  r.risen  between  persons  in 
the  same  class,  it  was  more  convenient  to  see 
them  face  to  face.  On  these,  and  some  other 
considerations,  it  was  agreed,  that  each  leader 
should  meet  his  class  altogether,  6nce  a  week,  at 
a  time  and  place  most  convenient  for  the  whole. 
He  begun  and  ended  the  meeting  with  singing  and 
prayer  ;  and  spent  about  an  hour  conversing  with 
these  persons,  one  by  one.  By  this  means,  a 
more  full  inquiry  was  made  into  the  behaviour  oi 
every  person ;  advice  or  reproof  was  given  as  need 
required ;  misunderstandings  were  removed,  and 


488 

brotherly  love  promoted.  "  It  can  scarce  be  con- 
ceived (says  Mr.  Wesley,)  what  advantages  have 
been  reaped  from  this  little  prudential  regulation. 
Many  experienced  that  christian  fellowship,  of 
which  they  had  not  so  much  as  an  idea  before. 
They  begun  to  bear  one  another9 s  burthens,  and  na- 
turally to  care  for  each  other's  welfare.  And  as  they 
had  daily  a  more  intimate  acquaintance  with,  so 
they  had  a  more  endeared  affection  for  each  other." 
Mr.  Wesley  further  adds,  "  Upon  reflection  I 
could  not  but  observe,  this  is  the  very  thing  which 
was  from  the  very  beginning  of  Christianity.  In 
the  earliest  times,  those  whom  God  had  sent  forth 
to  preach  the  gospel  to  every  creature,  and  the  body 
of.  s  were  mostly  Jews  or  Heathens  ;  but  as 

soon  as  any  of  these  were  so  convinced  of  thfc 
truth  as  to  forsake  sin,  and  seek  the  gospel  of  sal- 
vation, they  immediately  joined  them  together, 
took  an  account  of  their  names,  and  advised  them 
to  watch  over  each  other,  and  met  those  Catechu- 
mens, as  they  were  then  called,  apart  from  the 
congregation,  that  they  might  instruct,  rebuke, 
exhort,  and  pray  with  them  and  for  them,  accord- 
ing to  their  several  necessities." 

Perhaps  the  following  hymn,  which  they  often 
sing  in  those  meetings,  will  enable  you  to  form 
some  idea  of  the  temper  and  spirit  by  which  they 
are  actuated. 

Christ,  from  whom  all  blessings  flaw, 

Perfecting  the  saints  below, 

Hear  us,  who  thy  nature  share, 

Who  thy  mystic  body  ai  e  ; 

Join  us,  in  one  spirit  join, 

Let  us  still  receive  cf  tjnne  : 


189 

Still  for  more  on  thee  we  call, 
Thou  who  fillest  all  in  all  ! 
Closer  knit  to  thee  our  head, 
Nourish  us,  O  Christ,  and  feed  ; 
Let  us  daily  growth  receive, 
More  and  more  id  Jesus  live. 
Jesus,  we  thy  members  are, 
Cherish  us  with  kindest  care  j 
Of  thy  flesh  and  of  thy  bone, 
Love,  for  ever  love  thy  own. 

Move  and  actuate,  and  guide^ 
Divers  gifts  to  each  divide  ; 
Plac'd  according  to  thy  will, 
Let  us  all  our  work  fulfil, 
Never  from  our  office  move, 
Needful  to  each  other  prove  ; 
Use  the  grace  on  each  bestow" d^ 
Tempered  by  the  art  of  God. 

Sweetly  may  we  all  agree, 
Touch'd  with  softest  sympathy  ; 
Kindly  for  each  other  care, 
Every  member  feel  its  share, 
Wounded  by  the  grief  of  one, 
Now  let  all  the  member.^  groan  5 
Honour'd  if  one  member  is, 
All  partake  the  common  bliss. 

Many  are  we  now  and  one, 
"We  who  Jesus  have  put  on  : 
There  is  neither  bond  or  free, 
Male  or  female,  Lord,  in  thee  ! 
Love,  like  death,  has  all  destroy'd, 
Render' d  all  distinction  void  ! 
Names  and  sects  and  parties  fall ! 
Thou,  O  Christ,  art  all  in  all ! 

I  am,  dear  friend, 

Your5! 


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